1 


r'\/XA> 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California. 

U^>tr/., i^^kd.L.J(j. d.Ai^^ruMO. ZZ/.^- 

Received              ^lA-             >  ^ •  /900 

Accession  A^o.  ^/^../'.J  ...  .    Class  No.^Sf:^ • 

VV9/2. 

ij 


7^^7i 


WOODWOETH'S 


YOUTH'S  CABINET, 


FEANCIS  C.  WOODWORTH, 

AUTHOR    OF    "  UNCLE    FRAXK's    HOME    STORIES,"    "  STORIES    ABOUT    ANIMALS,' 
'•THEODORE    THINKEr's    TALES,"    ETC.    ETC. 


Amuseraent  our  joaeans — instruction   our   ena. 


VOL.  ly. 


NEW  YOEK: 

D.    AUSTIN    WOOD  WORTH, 

PUBLISHER. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853,  by 

D.   AUSTIN   WOODWORTH, 

In  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


STERSOajtTPBD    BY  PRINTED    BY 

THOMAS  B.    SMITH,  J.    D.    TORRET 

216  William  St.  N.  Y.  12  Spruce  Street. 


POMPEII  AS  IT  IS. 


lJUill  you  take  an  imaginai-y  trip  with  me,  reader, 
to  the  doomed  city  of  Pompeii,  and  see  it  as  it 
is  now  ?  Taking  it  for  granted  that  you  say 
"  yes,"  I  will  ask  one  of  the  numerous  guides  that 
swarm  around  each  of  the  gates,  to  show  us  the  way 
into  the  city.  Let  us  enter  the  "  Gate  of  the  Soldiers." 
Here,  just  inside  the  wall,  are  the  soldiers'  barracks. 
We  scarcely  need  the  information  which  our  guide  is  so  anxious  to 
convey.  We  see  at  a  glance  for  what  those  buildings  were  appro- 
priated. You  can  scarcely  divest  yourself  of  the  conviction  that 
you  are  dreaming,  as  you  walk  hurriedly  along.  How  many  times 
I  asked  nivself  the  question,  while  wandering  amid  these  ruins, 
"  Can  this  all  be  real  ?"  The  roofs  of  the  houses  were  all  cru^ed 
under  the  weight  that  fell  upon  them.  The  walls,  however,  are 
standing,  to  a  great  extent.  Many  of  the  dw^ellings  of  the  more 
wealthy  of  the  inhabitants,  abounded  in  fresco  and  other  paintings. 
The  interior  walls  were  covered  with  them,  in  some  instances.  The 
finest  frescoes  in  the  world,  almost,  came  from  Herculanseum  and 
Pompeii,  and  may  be  seen  in  the  Museum  at  Naples. 

The  walls  of  the  humbler  dwellings  were  generally  painted  a  pecu- 
liar bright  brown,  which  modern  painters  cannot  imitate.  It  is  sur- 
prising that  these  paintings  should  retain  their  color  so  well.  When 
they  were  exhumed,  they  were  as  fresh  and  life-like,  apparently,  as 
they  could  have  been  the  day  they  were  buried.  A  good  many  of  the 
paintings  have  been  removed  from  these  walls,  and  are  now  in  the 
Museum.     All  the  finest  of  them  are  there.     Still  many,  wdiich  were 

VOL.  IV.  1*  JY 


10  POMPEII  AS   IT   IS. 


damaged  by  the  falling  of  the  roofs,  or  perhaps  in  the  process  of 
excavation,  still  remain  in  their  mutilated  state.  Enough  remain 
to  demonstrate  to  us  the  great  perfection  of  art  at  the  period  of  the 
overthrow  of  the  city,  as  well  as  the  corrupt  state  of  morals  that 
must  then  have  reigned  among  its  inhabitants.  They  tell  us  of 
a  room  in  the  Neapolitan  Museum,  filled  with  paintings  and  mo- 
saics from  the  buried  cities,  so  grossly  impure,  that  they  cannot 
with  propriety  be  exhibited.  I  can  easily  believe  it ;  for  the  mind 
is  sufficiently  shocked  at  the  j^ictures  still  remaining  upon  the  walls 
in  Pompeii.  Were  the  cities  under  the  shadow  of  Vesuvius  over- 
whelmed in  consequence  of  their  wickedness  ?  In  the  absence  of  a 
revelation  from  heaven,  touching  that  question,  of  course  it  cannot 
be  definitely  answered.  But  few,  I  am  sure,  who  visit  those  cities, 
can  suppress  the  thought  that  they,  no  less  than  the  cities  of  the 
plain  of  the  Jordan,  may  have  suffered  thus,  because  their  cup  of 
crime  was  full. 

"We  have  arrived  at  the  comic  theatre.  On  these  stone  seats, 
which  have  so  long  and  so  successfully  resisted  the  earthquakes 
that  have  shattered  other  buildings  in  Southern  Italy  to  their  foun- 
dations, sat  the  pleasure-loving  Pompeiians.  The  actors  used  to 
stand  in  the  arena  below.  See,  the  tall  grass  grows,  and  beautiful 
flowers  bloom,  on  these  very  seats.  There  is  an  inscription,  in  brass 
letters,  in  the  arena.  It  is  as  legible  as  if  it  were  placed  there  to- 
day. Let  us  read  it.  It  tells  us  under  what  auspices  this  place  of 
amusement  was  established. 

But  here  is  another  theatre,  a  much  larger  one,  capable  of  seat- 
ing some  five  thousand  persons.  We  enter  it.  It  is  not  necessary 
for  the  guide  to  tell  us  to  what  especial  uses  this  edifice  was  appro- 
priated. We  see,  from  the  mode  in  which  it  was  constructed,  that 
on  that  large  arena  yonder,  the  gladiators  contended  with  each 
other,  single-handed,  for  the  amusement  of  the  spectators — con- 
tended until  one  or  the  other  fell,  perhaps  to  be  ingloriously  drag- 
ged from  the  arena,  by  the  attendants,  as  they  dragged  away  the 
bodies  of  the  wild  beasts  which  fought  there  on  other  occasions. 
Let  us  descend  into  this  arena.  A  vast  edifice  was  this  amphi- 
theatre. Can  you  tell  what  those  dark  chambers  were  occupied 
for  ?     I  shudder  when  I  reflect  that  in  them  were  confined  the 


POMPEII   AS   IT   IS.  11 


wild  beasts,  half-starved,  to  render  tliein  fierce,  and  to  fit  tliem  to 
act  their  savage  part  in  the  theatre,  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
citizens.  To  act  their  savage  part !  What  that  part  was,  I  need 
not  remind  you.  You  know  too  well  already.  The  soul  sickens 
at  the  thought  of  it. 

Xot  amono-  the  least  notable  thino-s  connected  with  this  exhumed 
city,  is  a  placard  which  they  showed  us,  posted  upon  the  walls  of 
one  of  the  public  baths.  It  is  in  these  words  :  "  At  the  dedica- 
tion of  the  baths,  C.  A.  X.  Mains  will  give  wild-beast  fightings  and 
gladiators.  There  will  be  sprinkling  of  perfumes,  and  an  awning. 
Prosperity  to  Mains,  first  man  in  Pompeii  !" 

I  ascend  the  steps  of  this  theatre  again.  I  stand  on  the  upper- 
most. Here  I  can  distinctly  see  Vesuvius.  There  stands  the  old 
monster,  who  was  the  agent  of  all  this  mischief,  quietly  puffing  out 
interminable  clouds  of  smoke.  Here,  too,  we  see  over  a  great  por- 
tion of  Pompeii,  and  away  beyond,  to  Herculanreum  ;  and  oh,  how 
beautiful  appears  the  blue  Mediterranean,  with  its  unrivaled  group 
of  islands  ;  and  how  like  a  thing  of  enchantment  appears  the  city 
of  Naples,  stretching  from  the  water's  edge  to  the  summit  of  a  lofty 
hill  1 

It  seems  almost  like  sacrilege,  to  enter  these  dwellings,  and  to 
go  through  the  difterent  apartments.  One  can  hardly  avoid  giving 
way  to  the  delusion,  that  the  people  have  left  their  houses  only  for 
a  brief  period,  and  that  they  will  return  again  and  occupy  them, 
perhaps  even  while  we  are  lingering  here.  Mosaics,  generally  of 
marble,  with  difterent  colors  interspersed,  form  the  floors  of  most 
of  the  more  elegant  mansions.  These  floors  are  all  covered  now 
with  dust,  ashes,  sand,  and  bits  of  broken  plaster,  so  that  we  cannot 
examine  the  mosaics.  Why  is  this  allowed  ?  To  aftbrd  to  scores 
of  rafrged  boys,  who  hover  around  these  places,  an  opportunity  to 
get  a  grano  or  two  by  exhibiting  the  mosaics.  If  you  notice,  you 
will  see  that  the  cunning  rogues  cover  the  floor  all  over  again  as 
soon  as  you  turn  to  go  away,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  the  next  cus- 
tomer.    Bravo  ! 

What  is  that  inscription  in  mosaic  yonder,  in  the  court  of  one 
of  these  elegant  houses  ?  Cave  Ccuiem  !  This  Latin  inscription 
is  quite  common  in  front  of  houses  of  the  better  class.     The  mean- 


12  POMPEII   AS   IT   IS. 


ing  of  it  is — my  learned  reader  will  excuse  my  rendering  it  into 
English — "  Beware  of  the  dog  !"  Another  inscription,  too,  we  fre- 
quently meet  with,  just  as  we  enter  the  dwelling.  It  is  the  single 
word,  Ave,  and  means,  "  Welcome."  I  notice  that  in  some  cases 
it  is  spelled  with  an  initial — Have.  What !  had  those  old  Romans 
learned  to  use  the  aspirate  in  such  cases  ?  I  thought  that  kind  o'lasjn- 
ration  was  a  much  more  modern  invention.  So  it  seems  that  our 
good  friend  Johnny  Bull  must  not  set  up  any  claims  in  that  direction. 

Not  to  confine  myself  too  slavishly  to  antiquities,  I  saw  numer- 
ous specimens  of  a  plant  within  the  walls  of  Pompeii,  which  inter- 
ested me  exceedingly.  1  saw  growing  here  the  century  plant, 
which,  in  our  northern  States,  we  cultivate  in  our  green-houses, 
and  which,  it  is  said  (fabulously,  as  I  believe)  does  not  flower  until 
it  is  a  hundred  years  old.  In  Pompeii,  you  may  see  the  century 
plant  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  high,  in  full  flower,  and  a  most  splen- 
did plant  it  is,  when  it  is  covered  with  fine,  large  blossoms.  Ac- 
cording to  the  testimony  of  the  guide,  it  requires  only  a  few  years 
here  for  the  century  plant  to  produce  flowers. 

Now  we  come  to  the  temple  of  Isis.  Here  was  the  altar  of  sac- 
rifice ;  and  here,  in  this  little  chamber — I  must  crawl  into  it,  just 
for  the  name  of  the  thing,  I  suppose — was  the  spot  where  the 
oracles  were  uttered.  May  I  carry  away  a  little  relic  from  this 
place  ?  The  guide  says  it  is  not  allowed,  i^Cest  impossible  !)  but 
he  kindly  turns  his  back  to  me,  as  he  says  so,  and  looks  anxiously 
in  another  direction,  till  I  help  myself.  He  is  a  very  accommo- 
dating fellow,  this  guide  ;  but  candor  compels  me  to  say,  that 
when  you  come  to  a  settlement  with  him  for  his  services,  he  ex- 
pects you  will  remember  all  the  little  extras. 

The  school-house  interested  me  not  a  little.  The  schoolmaster 
sat  on  a  raised  platform.  How  much  the  stone  steps  are  worn 
that  lead  to  a  little  stage  on  which  the  pupils  recited  their  lessons, 
and  listened  to  the  teachings  of  the  master. 

There  are  fountains  in  almost  all  the  streets.  The  curbs  of  the 
cisterns  were  frequently  of  marble.  These  remain  undisturbed,  as 
perfect  as  on  the  day  they  were  buried.  You  can  see  the  deep 
grooves  in  the  inside  of  the  curb,  which  were  made  by  the  friction 
of  the  cord  used  in  drawing  the  water. 


I  t 


^.^'^p 


^^- 


THE  CENTURY  PLAXT. 


POMPEII   AS    IT   IS.  15 


The  streets  are  not  so  wide  as  I  had  supposed.  In  most  of  them 
there  is  only  room  for  one  vehicle  to  pass  at  a  time.  In  the  Mu- 
seum at  Naples,  you  can  see  a  circular  piece  of  brass,  which  is  a 
specimen  of  many  others  suspended  at  the  corners  of  streets  in 
Pompeii,  and  which  was  struck  with  a  hammer  by  a  driver  in 
entering  a  given  street,  to  give  notice  that  a  carriage  was  entering 
at  that  end,  so  that  no  one  would  at  the  same  time  enter  at  the 
other  end  of  the  street.  The  ruts  made  by  the  carriage  wheels 
are  in  many  places  five  or  six  inches  deep.  The  material  with 
which  the  city  w^as  paved  is  not  the  hardest,  it  being  very  gener- 
ally blocks  of  lava  from  Vesuvius. 

We  now  approach  the  court  of  justice ;  and  here,  close  by,  is 
the  prison.  Through  this  passage  the  sentence  of  the  judge  was 
communicated  to  the  prisoner,  while  in  his  gloomy  and  cheerless 
cell. 

A  little  farther  on  is  the  temple  of  Venus.  They  show  us  the 
place  where  the  victim  for  the  sacrifice  was  killed,  and  the  pedestal 
on  which  stood  the  bronze  statue  of  the  shameless  goddess.  The 
Pantheon  is  not  far  from  this  temple.  Here  you  see  pedestals  for 
twelve  great  gods.  The  paintings  which  remain  on  the  walls 
forcibly  suggest  some  of  the  language  used  by  the  apostle  Paul 
in  the  first  chapter  of  his  letter  to  the  Christians  in  this  vicinity. 

We  pass  a  bakery,  with  many  of  the  articles  used  by  the  owner, 
in  his  trade  ;  a  soap  factory  ;  the  custom  house  ;  the  house  of  the 
surgeon,  where  were  found  a  large  collection  of  surgical  instruments, 
which  are  now  in  the  Museum  at  Naples  ;  the  temple  of  the  Ves- 
tal Virgins  ;  public  baths,  and  many  other  places  of  almost  equal 
note. 

Then  we  emerge  from  the  city  by  the  Herculan^eum  gate,  and 
visit  the  house  of  the  lordly  Diomede — the  most  splendid  private 
dwelling  in  Pompeii.  Bulwer,  you  may  recollect,  honors  this 
same  Diomede,  by  employing  him  to  open  the  first  chapter  of 
his  "  Last  Days  of  Pompeii."  You  ask  how  we  know  who  was 
the  occupant  of  this  mansion  ?  His  name  was  inscribed  at  the 
entrance.  The  wine  cellar  occupies  a  very  large  space.  Many  of 
the  earthen  casks  in  which  the  wine  was  kept,  remain  here  in  the 
exact  position  they  occupied  when  they  were  discovered.     There  is 


16  fkanklin's  mistake. 

a  painful  chapter  connected  with  this  wine  cellar.  Some  tw^enty 
dead  bodies  were  found  here,  and  among  them  one  which,  from  the 
profusion  of  costly  ornaments  on  her  person,  is  supposed  to  have 
been  that  of  the  mistress  of  the  house.  How  came  it  to  pass  that 
so  many  persons  found  a  grave  here  ?  It  is  presumed  that  they 
fled  to  the  cellar,  supposing  themselves  safe  there,  and  intending  to 
remain  till  the  storm  of  ashes  should  subside,  wdien  they  meant  to 
escape  from  the  city.  Alas  !  when  they  chose  to  leave  their  place 
of  retreat,  it  was  too  late  ! 

On  the  same  street  with  the  house  of  Diomede,  are  the  tombs 
of  the  wealthy  Pompeii ans.  Many  of  the  monuments  are  very 
elegant.  One  of  the  most  remaikable  is  that  of  a  gladiator.  In 
some  of  these  tombs  are  still  the  urns  in  which  were  deposited  the 
ashes  of  the  dead,  and  here  and  there  may  be  seen  other  and  smaller 
urns,  in  which  were  preserved  the  tears  of  surviving  friends.  These 
lachrymal  iirns^  by  the  way,  I  saw  in  several  old  cemeteries  in 
Italy. 

After  visiting  Pompeii,  I  proceeded  directly  to  Herculanaium, 
and  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  there.  The  principal  object 
of  interest  in  the  latter  city,  is  the  great  amphitheatre,  which  we 
visit  in  the  same  manner  as  we  explore  a  coal  mine.  We  go  into 
a  huge  grotto,  Avith  torches,  and  as  we  stand  within  those  walls, 
and  survey  this  vast  monument  of  the  wealth  and  the  luxury  of 
that  doomed  city,  we  hear  the  rumbling  of  the  carriages  in  the 
modern  city  of  Resina,  far  above  our  heads. 


DE.  FRAIs^KLIN'S  MISTAKE. 

Franklin,  when  he  was  Ambassador  to  France,  being  at  a  meet- 
ing of  a  literary  society,  and  not  w^ell  understanding  the  French 
when  declaimed,  determined  to  applaud  when  he  saw  a  lady  of  his 
acquaintance  express  satisfaction.  When  they  had  ceased,  a  little 
child  who  understood  the  French,  said  to  him,  "  But,  grandpapa, 
you  always  applauded  the  loudest  when  they  were  praising  you  !" 
Franklin  laughed  heartily,  and  explained  the  matter. 


A  EIDE   ON   A   WHALE. 


17 


A  EIDE  ON  A  WHALE. 


BY    DR.    J.    H.    HANAFORD. 


Most  of  my  young  readei-s  are  aware  of  the  fact,  that  in  obtain- 
ing the  oil  which  they  burn  in  the  evening,  while  reading  this 
very  book,  hardy  men  are  exposed  to  many  dangers.  Sometimes 
they  may  be  found  among  the  towering  icebergs  of  the  Arctic 
Ocean,  exposed  to  the  rude  northern  blasts,  or  in  danger  of  being 
crushed  between  those  large  fields  of  ice  that  are  generally  found 
there,  while  they  make  war  upon  the  huge  leviathans  of  that  deso- 
late region.  At  other  times,  they  sail  along  the  coast  at  about 
the  same  distance  from  the  opposite  pole,  all  the  time  exposed  to 
many  hardships  and  dangers,  liable  at  any  moment  to  be  destroyed 
by  those  monsters  of  the  deep,  or  to  suffer  shipwreck  in  those  an- 
gry waters.  These,  indeed,  "  see  God's  wonders  in  the  deep,"  and 
hear  the  murmuring  of  lashing  billov*-s  in  the  stoim. 

But  I  have  a  story  to  tell  you.  Listen  to  it.  Some  fifty  years 
ago,  the  ship  "  Renown"  was  in  the  bay  near  Coquimbo,  on  the 
coast  of  South  America,  durinor  her  return  vovao-e  from  the  Pacific. 


18  SPECIE  AND   SPECIES. 

'While  there,  a  large  whale  and  her  yoimg  (a  cow  and  calf,  as  they 
are  called  by  whalemen)  were  discovered,  and  of  course  were  re- 
garded as  lawful  prey.  They  gave  chase,  and  came  up  w^ith  the 
cow,  plunging  a  harpoon  and  two  lances  into  her  huge  body. 
Enraged  by  this  harsh  usage,  she  arose,  coming  up  head  foremost 
out  of  the  water,  and  fell  upon  the  boat,  which  was  shattered  in 
fragments.  The  men  now  found  themselves  struggling  in  the 
water,  exposed  to  an  attack  from  their  formidable  enemy.  They 
clung  to  oars  and  pieces  of  the  boat.  All  of  them,  except  a  lad, 
were  able  to  swim.  This  lad  succeeded  for  a  while  in  sustaining 
himself,  but  soon  became  too  much  exhausted  any  longer  to  cling 
to  the  wreck.  Each  of  his  companions  was  too  busily  engaged 
in  preserving  his  own  life,  to  be  able  to  render  him  assistance.  At 
the  time  when  he  was  about  sinking,  the  calf  swam  under  him, 
arose,  and  took  him  on  her  back.  There  he  sat,  astride  his  ocean 
steed,  with  as  much  composure,  apparently,  as  if  taking  a  pleasure- 
ride  on  some  beautiful  Arabian  courser,  while  she  swam  around  in 
the  bay,  seeking,  as  it  would  seem,  a  proper  place  to  deposit  her 
load,  like  the  whale  that  took  the  charge  of  the  disobedient  Jo- 
nah. In  a  short  time,  however,  another  boat  came  from  the  ship, 
to  pick  up  the  struggling  ones,  the  most  unfortunate  of  whom,  or 
the  one  in  the  greatest  danger,  was  the  rider,  who  was  first  secured, 
after  which  the  calf  sank  below  the  surface,  probably  following  the 
mother,  which  had  already  made  her  escape  into  the  broad  ocean. 
My  readers  may  think  this  story  rather  "  fishy,"  but  they  may 
rest  assured  that  it  is  true.  One  of  the  number,  the  harpooner,  is 
still  living,  and  relates  these  incidents  with  as  much  interest  as  if 
they  had  occurred  but  yesterday,  although  fifty  years  have  since 
rolled  awav. 


SPECIE  AND  SPECIES. 

"  I  FEAR,"  said  a  country  minister  to  his  flock,  "  when  I  explained 
to  you,  in  my  last  charity  sermon,  that  philanthropy  was  the  love 
of  our  species,  you  must  have  understood  me  to  say  specie,  which 
may  account  for  the  smallness  of  the  collection." 


SOUTH   AMERICAN   BIRDS.  19" 


SOUTH  AMEEICAiN  BIRDS. 


TRANSLATED  FEOM  THE  FRENCH,  BY  LAfRA  LOVETL. 


1^    '     V       \        * 


f:'g.j^  HE  Soiilli  Americans  have  put  to  profit  the  intel- 
ligence of  certain  wild  birds,  and  subjected  them 

^^  ^      _  to  a  sort  of  domesticity,  if  I  may  use  the  word. 

^p^^  The  chaia,  or  chavaria^  of  Paraguay,  attains  the 

'  1^^  height  of  a  small  turkey.  Its  head,  covered  with  down, 
k  as  A\  ell  as  its  neck,  is  ornamented  with  an  elegant  crown 
of  upright  feathers ;  its  plumage  is  of  a  leaden  gray  ; 
its  long  legs  are  provided  with  very  strong  claws,  and  the  end  of 
its  wings  is  armed  with  a  thick,  long,  pointed  horn,  which  renders 
it  formidable  to  other  birds.  Nevertheless  its  disposition  is  gentle, 
even  generous  ;  for  it  employs  its  strength  and  courage  only  in 
the  defence  of  the  timid  birds  of  the  poultry-yard,  which  the  In- 
dians place  under  its  guardianship.  It  promenades  all  day,  with 
much  gravity,  in  the  midst  of  the  hens,  ducks,  and  geese  confided 
to  it ;  and  its  piercing  eye,  almost  always  directed  towards  the 
clouds,  pei-mits  it  to  discover  a  bird  of  prey  at  a  very  great  dis- 
tance. As  soon  as  he  perceives  it,  he  utters  a  cry  of  alarm,  and 
prepares  fiercely  for  the  combat.  Vainly  does  the  vulture  dart, 
with  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  on  a  goose  or  a  chicken  ;  the  chaia 
is  there,  with  his  beak  projecting  and  his  plumage  bristling.  While 
with  one  Aving  he  covers  the  victim,  with  the  other  he  strikes  the 
assassin,  and  with  his  spur  inflicts  deep  wounds  in  his  throat  and 
breast.  Like  an  athlete  trained  to  combat,  he  knows  how  to  take 
his  time  to  launch  his  pointed  beak  into  his  eyes,  or  to  tear  hiui 
with  his  claws.  He  strikes  with  redoubled  blows,  overthrows  the 
enemy,  subduing  him  rather  by  courage  and  address  than  by 
force,  and  soon  constrains  him  to  take  flio-ht  in  diso-race.  Then  he 
draws  himself  up,  and  promenades  proudly  amid  his  aff'righted  flock. 


20  SOUTH  AMERICAN  BIRDS. 

But  if  the  bird  of  prey  attacks  the  flock  while  it  is  in  the  fields, 
the  geese,  while  the  chaia  is  fighting,  may  be  scattered  by  fear, 
and  thus  isolated,  become  an  easy  prey.  Another  protector  comes 
to  their  assistance.  It  is  an  a  garni,  whose  voice,  shrill  as  the  note 
of  a  trumpet,  frightens  the  vulture,  and  summons  the  shepherd  to 
the  aid  of  the  intrepid  chaia.  The  agami  has  neither  the  strength 
nor  the  courage  of  the  former,  but  it  surpasses  it  in  intelligence, 
as  it  does  all  other  animals  except  the  dog.  This  bird  is  of  the 
size  of  a  large  chicken  ;  its  plumage  is  blackish,  with  shades  of 
brilliant  violet  on  the  breast ;  its  head  and  neck  are  covered  with 
a  dark  violet  down,  resembling  velvet ;  its  beak  is  strong  ;  its  eyes 
large,  bi'illiant,  expressive.  Its  body,  elongated,  almost  vertical, 
arched  like  that  of  the  partridge,  is  supported  by  long,  yellow  legs. 
It  flies  awkwardly,  but  very  swiftly.  In  the  wild  state  it  lives  in 
the  woods,  feeds  on  grain  and  fruits,  and  builds  its  nests  at  the 
foot  of  trees.  Domesticated,  it  recognises  the  hand  which  feeds  it, 
attaches  itself  to  its  master,  follows  him  everywhere,  obeys  his 
voice,  and  caresses  him  like  a  dog.  Like  the  latter,  it  loves  and 
seeks  to  please,  and  in  order  to  succeed,  makes  itself  useful.  By 
night  it  stations  itself  near  the  door  of  the  house,  and  watches 
what  is  passing  without.  If  robbers  seek  to  introduce  themselves, 
under  cover  of  the  darkness,  this  vigilant  sentinel  immediately 
sounds  the  alarm,  and  makes  its  shrill  voice  resound  like  the 
barking  of  a  dog.  During  the  day,  it  guards  the  poultry -yard, 
and  maintains  good  order  there.  It  drives  the  hens  and  pigeons 
from  the  garden,  and,  in  fine,  renders  all  the  little  services  of 
which  it  is  capable,  without  waiting  to  be  called  upon  to  do  so. 
Sometimes  its  master  confides  to  it  a  flock  of  geese,  to  be  driven 
to  the  fields.  It  is  then  amusing  to  see  how  much  trouble  it 
takes  to  keep  the  flock  in  order,  to  direct  them,  to  hurry  them,  to 
compel  them  to  keep  together.  If  a  shepherd  has  no  dog,  it  is 
said  that  two  agamies  are  a  very  good  substitute,  and  that  in  this 
case,  they  develop  admirable  intelligence  and  zeal.  Xothing  is 
more  curious  than  to  see  stupid  sheep  run  and  jostle  one  another, 
in  obedience  to  a  bird  one-sixth  as  large,  and  not  a  twentieth  part 
as  strong  as  themselves.  This  is  is  a  striking  example  of  the  im- 
mense superiority  of  intelligence  over  physical  force. 


^N's^^^ 


PORTRAIT    OF    HENRY    CLAT. 


BIOGRAPHY   OF   HENRY   CLAY. 


23 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  HENRY  CLAY. 


sE  of  the  greatest  statesmen  of  this  or  any  other 
age,  was  Henry  Clay  of  Kentucky.     It  is  no  mat- 
^^  ^'^==^^    ter,  now  that  he  has  passed  from  the  earth,  to 
what  political  party  he  belonged.     The  most  zealous  par- 
tisan, Avhether  he  be  Whig  or  Democrat,  must  accord  to 
this  man  statesmanship  such  as  has  rarely  been  equaled 
in  the  world's  history. 

Presuming  my  readers  would  all  be  glad  to  read  a  biographical 
sketch  of  this  remarkable  man,  I  will  present  them  with  a  brief 
one,  for  which  I  am  indebted,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the  indefati- 
gable editor  of  the  Student,  a  work  from  which  I  so  ofcen  borrow : 
Henry  Clay,  the  seventh  son  of  the  Rev.  John  Clay,  was  born 
April  12th,  1777,  in  Hanover  County,  Virginia.  At  the  age  of 
five  years  he  lost  his  father,  who  was  a  man  of  great  energy  and 
worth,  and  with  the  other  children  was  left  dependent  upon  the 
good  counsel  and  narrow  pecuniary  means  of  a  most  virtuous  and 
prudent  mother.  After  receiving  such  limited  advantages  of  a 
common  school  education  as  his  native  county  afforded,  he  was 
placed,  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  in  a  small  retail  store  at  Richmond, 
and  a  few  months  afterwards,  through  the  interposition  of  friends, 
was  transferred  to  the  office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  High  Court  of 
Chancery,  and  devoted  much  of  his  time  to  serving  the  venerable 
Chancellor  Wythe,  as  an  amanuensis.  Here  he  remained  four  years, 
enriching  his  mind  by  reading  and  intercourse  with  eminent  men. 
Leaving  the  Clerk's  Office  in  1796,  he  commenced  the  regular 
study  of  the  law  under  Robert  Brooks,  Esq.  the  Attorney  General, 
formerly  Governor  of  Virginia,  and  in  the  course  of  the  next  year 
was  admitted  to  practice.  Directly  afterwards  he  i-emoved  to  Lex- 
ington, Kentucky. 


24  BIOGEAPHY  OF  HENRY  CLAY. 

Though  without  patrons,  without  the  countenance  of  influential 
friends,  and  at  first  destitute  of  even  the  means  of  paying  his 
weekly  board,  he  soon  commanded  consideration  and  respect,  and 
obtained  a  large  and  lucrative  practice.  He  speedily  made  him- 
self eminent  both  in  criminal  and  civil  cases.  He  owed  his  success 
chiefly  to  his  knowledge  of  human  nature,  his  subtile  appreciation 
of  character,  his  uncommon  quickness  of  apprehension,  and  his 
great  gifts  of  eloquence,  invested  with  all  the  advantages  of  person, 
voice,  countenance,  and  manner. 

Mr.  Clay  commenced  his  political  career  during  the  very  first 
year  of  his  residence  at  Lexington.  His  brilliant  and  eflfective  ad- 
vocacy of  popular  rights  speedily  made  him  a  general  favorite. 
He  was  elected  to  the  State  Legislature  in  1803  almost  by  accla- 
mation. Here  he  entered  the  lists  against  the  most  veteran  de- 
baters, and  by  the  luster  of  his  powers  and  gallantry  of  his  bearing, 
won  universal  admiration. 

Li  1806,  Mr.  Clay  was  elected  by  the  Legislature  to  fill  the  va- 
cancy occasioned  by  the  resignation  of  one  of  the  United  States 
Senators  of  the  State,  though  he  had  hardly  reached  the  age  re- 
quired by  the  Constitution.  His  official  term  expiring  at  the  end 
of  the  session,  he  was  again  sent  to  the  State  Legislature,  and 
was  elected  Speaker  of  the  Assembly. 

In  1809,  Mr.  Clay  was  again  elected  by  a  vote  of  two  to  one 
to  the  United  States  Senate,  to  supply  a  two  years'  vacancy,  and 
in  1811,  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Federal  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, and  on  the  very  first  day  of  taking  his  seat  was  chosen 
Speaker  of  that  body  by  a  majority  of  thirty -one  votes.  This  post 
he  continued  to  occupy  during  the  whole  of  the  war  with  Great 
Britain.  No  man  was  excited  to  more  intense  indignation  by  the 
outrages  of  England  upon  our  commerce,  and  at  the  very  outset 
of  the  session  he  embarked  with  his  whole  soul  in  favor  of  meas- 
ures putting  the  country  in  an  attitude  of  resistance  to  aggression. 
The  war  once  begun,  he  continued  to  sustain  it  with  all  the  faculties 
of  his  nature.  The  influence  he  wielded  over  the  moral,  and  in 
that  way  over  the  physical,  power  of  the  country  was  immense. 
His  animating  spirit,  his  stirring  eloquence,  his  useful  counsels,  and 
his  untiring  energy,  were  everywhere  felt,  and  incited  army  and 


BIOGRAPHY   OF   HENRY   CLAY.  25 

navy  to  deeds  of  valor  and  victory,  as  they  did  the  executive  to 
vigor  and  constancy.  So  impressed  was  President  Madison  with 
the  patriotism  and  extrordinary  abihties  of  Mr.  Clay,  that  at  the 
very  commencement  of  the  war  he  selected  him  to  be  the  Com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  army,  and  was  induced  to  Avithhold  the 
nomination  solely  by  the  consideration  of  the  immense  Avorth  of 
his  services  as  a  popular  leader  in  Congress.  In  January,  1814, 
Mr.  Clay,  having  been  designated  as  one  of  the  commissioners  to 
negotiate  a  peace,  resigned  the  Speakership,  and  repaired  first  to 
Gottingen,  and  afterwards  to  Ghent.  Upon  this  commission  he 
exercised  a  great  influence. 

The  negotiations  having  been  completed,  Mr.  Clay,  leaving  Ghent, 
spent  a  few  months  in  France  and  England,  and  then  returned  to 
his  own  country,  where  he  was  everywhere  greeted  with  the  most 
marked  tokens  of  gratitude  and  admiration. 

In  1815,  Mr.  Clay  was  again  unanimously  elected  to  Congress, 
and  was  again  chosen  Speaker  by  a  large  vote. 

He  was  off'ered  by  President  Madison  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet  and 
a  mission  to  Russia,  but  declined  them  both.  In  1818,  during  the 
struggle  for  the  establishment  of  liberty  in  South  America,  Mr. 
Clay  presented  a  proposition  to  recognize  the  independence  of  the 
South  American  colonists,  and  sustained  the  same  with  memorable 
eloquence  and  force.  He  was  unsuccessful  at  first,  but  for  years 
took  every  occasion  to  renew  the  agitation  of  the  subject,  until 
March,  1822,  when  the  President  sent  a  message  to  the  House 
of  Representatives  recommending  the  recognition  of  South  Ameri- 
can independence,  which  proposition  was  carried  with  but  a  single 
dissenting  voice.  Mr.  Clay's  appeals  during  the  struggle  were 
read  at  the  head  of  the  South  American  armies,  and  won  for  him 
the  enthusiastic  devotion  of  the  whole  southern  half  of  our  continent. 

The  discussion  of  the  question  of  admitting  slave-holding  Mis- 
souri into  the  Union,  went  on  from  month  to  month,  increasing  in 
vehemence  and  bitterness,  and  produced  an  excitement  all  over 
the  country,  which  shook  the  Union  to  its  very  centre.  Mr.  Clay 
had  for  private  reasons,  connected  with  his  pecuniary  aftairs,  re- 
signed his  post  as  Speaker,  and  retired  partially  from  public  life  ; 
but  in   consideration  of  the  threatening  aspect  of  public  afl:airs, 


26  BIOGRAPHY   OF   HENRY   CLAY. 

was  induced  to  return  to  Washington,  where,  about  a  fortnight 
after  his  ariival,  he  presented  a  resolution  to  refer  the  whole  sub- 
ject to  a  committee  of  thirteen.  The  resolution  prevailed,  and  a 
committee  was  appointed,  of  which  Mr.  Clay  was  chairman.  In 
eight  days  the  committee  reported  a  conciliatory  plan,  which,  after 
the  most  strenuous  exertions  by  Mr.  Clay  and  its  other  friends,  was 
adopted  by  eighty-seven  to  eighty-one.  Mr.  Clay's  efforts  on  this 
occasion  did  more  than  any  other  human  means  to  rescue  the 
Union  from  the  most  fearful  discord,  and  justly  earned  for  him  the 
proud  title  of  "  The  Great  Pacificator." 

On  the  settlement  of  the  Missouri  question,  Mr.  Clay  left  Con- 
gress, to  retrieve  his  private  affairs,  and  resumed  his  professional 
labors.  In  the  summer  of  1823,  he  was  again  elected  without  op- 
position to  the  House  of  Representatives,  when  on  the  first  ballot 
he  was  again  elected  Speaker  by  a  majority  of  four  to  one.  Dur- 
ing the  session  he  as  usual  took  frequent  occasion  to  mingle  in  the 
more  important  debates  of  the  House. 

In  1824,  Mr.  Clay  was  warmly  put  forward  by  many  friends  as 
a  candidate  for  the  Presidency,  and  received  thirty-seven  votes  in 
the  Electoral  College.  John  Quincy  Adams  obtained  eighty-four 
votes,  Andrew  Jackson  ninety-nine,  William  H.  Crawford  forty-one. 
The  election  came  before  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  Mr. 
Clay,  with  his  friends,  had  it  in  his  power  to  turn  the  balance  in 
favor  of  either  of  the  three  candidates.  He  decided  in  favor  of 
Mr.  Adams,  who  was  thereby  elected. 

Mr.  Clay  accepted  the  station  of  Secretary  of  State,  in  which  he 
remained  during  the  entire  administration,  with  what  efficiency  the 
archives  of  the  State  Department  will  not  cease  to  testify  as  long 
as  the  country  endures.  No  policy  could  be  more  completely  anti- 
European  and  more  thoroughly  American  than  that  of  Mr.  Clay 
during  his  charge  of  our  foreign  aff'airs.  At  the  close  of  Mr. 
Adam's  administration  in  1829,  he  returned  to  Kentucky,  and  in 
1831  was  elected  to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  and  in  the 
same  month  of  his  reappearance  in  the  Senate  he  was  unani- 
mously nominated  by  the  National  Republican  Convention,  assem- 
bled at  Baltimore,  to  the  office  of  President  of  the  United  States, 
on  a  ticket  with  John  Sargeant  as  Vice-President. 


BIOGRAPHY   OF   HENRY   CLAY.  27 

Being  defeated  by  the  re-election  of  General  Jackson,  Mr.  Clay, 
remaining  in  the  Senate,  continued  to  be  the  champion  of  his 
party  throughout  the  conflicts  of  the  administration  of  Jackson  and 
Van  Buren,  to  which  he  opposed  the  entire  force  of  his  genius  and 
talents. 

In  the  summer  of  1840,  his  name  was  again  presented  to  the 
people  in  connection  with  the  Presidency,  and  his  claims  to  the 
station  were  w^armly  urged  upon  the  Whig  Convention  ;  but  Gen- 
eral Harrison,  on  the  simple  ground  of  superior  availability,  was 
finally  selected  as  a  candidate. 

In  March,  1842,  Mr.  Clay  resigned  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  and 
took  what  he  supposed  to  be  his  final  leave  of  that  body  in  a 
valedictory  address  of  incomparable  beauty  and  pathos.  He  im- 
mediately returned  to  Kentuck}',  where  he  frequently  communi- 
cated with  the  public  by  letters  and  public  speeches  on  all  the 
exciting  topics  of  the  day.  Previous  to  his  resignation,  public 
opinion  had  universally  designated  him  as  the  next  Whig  candi- 
date for  the  Presidency.  At  the  meeting  of  the  Whig  Conven- 
tion at  Baltimore  in  May,  1844,  he  was  nominated  for  Piesident  by 
acclamation.  One  of  the  most  hotly-contested  campaigns  on 
record  succeeded,  and  it  resulted  in  the  election  of  James  K. 
Polk,  the  Democratic  candidate. 

In  1848,  ]\[r.  Clay  was  again  induced  by  the  partiality  of  his 
friends  to  allow  his  name  to  be  presented  to  the  Whig  National 
Convention,  but  General  Taylor  became  the  chosen  candidate. 
This  result  was  attributable  not  to  any  impaired  confidence  in  the 
pre-eminent  merits  of  Mr.  Clay,  but  solely  to  the  general  conviction 
that  Taylor,  fresh  as  he  was  from  his  glorious  achievements  in 
Mexico,  could  excite  a  popular  enthusiasm  in  his  favor,  which 
would  make  him  the  most  available  of  all  Whig  candidates.  Mr. 
Clay  bore  this  preference  of  another  with  his  accustomed  mag- 
nanimity, and  not  long  after  returned  to  his  public  duties  in  the 
Senate,  where  he  received  the  most  admiring  and  reverential  wel- 
come. 

His  efforts  on  the  Compromise  Bill  was  the  principal  achieve- 
ment of  his  last  Senatorial  career.  On  the  29th  of  June,  1852, 
he  was  summoned  to  the  bar  of  his  God. 


28  EXAMPLE   OF  WASHINGTON. 

For  more  than  half  a  century  his  name  and  his  acts  have  been 
so  intimately  blended  with  the  history  of  his  country,  that  whoever 
has  any  knowledge  of  America,  with  that  knowledge  must  have 
learned  something  of  the  world-renowned  Henry  Clay.  Nor  is  his 
name  known  merely  from  his  great  acts  as  an  orator  and  states- 
man. No  man  of  this  century  has  combined  so  much  practical 
talent  with  such  power  over  the  affections  of  men.  It  may  safely 
be  affirmed  that  Henry  Clay  had  more  personal  friends,  who 
would  do  and  suffer  for  him,  than  any  other  American.  He  had, 
however,  a  despotic  will,  which  made  him  able  to  rule  his  friends, 
and  which  also  gained  for  him  a  powerful  opposition  from  those 
who  chanced  to  be  opposed  to  him  in  opinion,  or  were  his  rivals  in 
the  field  of  fame. 


EXAMPLE   OF  WASHINGTON. 

When  Washington  appointed  the  hour  of  twelve  to  meet  Con- 
gress, he  never  failed  to  be  passing  the  door  of  the  hall  while  the 
clock  was  striking  twelve.  His  dinner  hour  was  four  o'clock.  If 
his  guests  w^ere  not  there  at  the  time,  he  never  waited  for  them. 
New  members  of  Congress,  who  were  invited  to  dine  with  him, 
would  frequently  come  in  when  dinner  was  half  over;  and  he 
would  say  to  them,  "  Gentlemen,  we  are  punctual  here.  My  cook 
never  asks  whether  the  company  has  arrived,  but  whether  the  hour 
has."  In  1799,  when  on  a  visit  to  Boston,  he  appointed  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning  as  the  hour  when  he  would  set  out  for 
Salem.  While  the  Old  South  clock  was  striking  eight,  he  was 
mounting  his  horse.  The  company  of  cavalry,  who  had  volunteered 
to  escort  him,  was  parading  in  Tremont  Street,  and  did  not  overtake 
him  until  he  had  reached  Charles  River  Bridge.  On  their  arrival, 
the  General  said,  "  Major,  I  thought  you  had  been  too  long  in  my 
family  not  to  know  when  it  was  eight  o'clock." 


REPETITION  IX   SERMONS.  29 


THE  BOY  AND  THE  ORANGE-TREE. 


'x^^^ 


HADOWS   from   the  leaves   of   an    ovange-tree   flitted 
over  a  pale  boy's  forehead,  while  both  stood  under 
the  noon-light  of  an  August  sun.     The  boy  gazed 
with  wonder  at  the  beautiful  tree,  with  its  white,  fragrant 
blossoms,   and   brightening   fruit — the  more  beautiful    be- 
cause, while  indierenous  to  a  milder  clime,  it  flourishes  here,  too. 

One  who  loved  him,  and  saw  him  there,  said,  "  He  is  like  wdiat 
he  looks  upon.  Sweet  and  delicate,  the  blossom  of  his  youth  is 
opening  ;  while  tiiith,  manliness,  and  virtue  lipen  early  in  liis  heart. 
Yes  :  like  the  orange-tree,  he  bears  the  flower  and  the  fruit  at  once." 
Winter  brought  snows,  and  sleet,  and  cold.  They  sheltered  the 
orange-tree,  where  it  might  receive  artificial  warmth,  so  as  not  to 
perish  by  the  wintry  blast.  They  also  keep  the  pale  boy  within, 
that  he  may  not  breathe  the  deadly  chill  of  the  east  wind.  But 
earth  is  all  too  cold  a  place  for  him.  He  watches  the  blossoms 
falling  from  the  orange-tree,  and  the  fruit  growing  yellower,  and 
knows  that  he  shall  never  behold  its  full  ripening. 

And  now  the  one  who  loves  him  so,  glancing  through  her  tears 
from  the  tree  to  the  boy,  sees — ah  !  what  a  paleness  upon  his  brow  1 
It  is  the  blossom  fading,  dropping  to  the  earth.  The  fruit  was  al- 
most ripened  for  thee,  drooping  mouiner  !  Be  content  that  the 
angels  gather  it.     Will  it  not  be  perfected  in  its  native  heaven  ? 

L.  L. 


REPETITION  IN  SERMONS. 

Old  Father  Bushnell,  of  Vermont,  used  to  say  that  the  best  criti- 
cism he  ever  received  on  his  preaching,  was  from  a  little  boy  who 
bat  right  at  his  feet,  looking  up  into  his  face,  as  he  was  preaching 
in  a  crowded  room  of  a  private  house.  As  he  was  going  on  very 
earnestly,  the  little  fellow  s]>oke  out,  "  You  said  that  afore." 


30  MY   SISTER'S   GRAVE. 


MY  SISTER'S  GEAYE. 


BY    MISS    ANNE    T.    WILBUR. 


Where  once  her  little  footsteps  trod 

Amid  the  place  of  graves, 
Her  dust  now  lies  beneath  the  sod, 

The  green  grass  o'er  it  waves. 

Summer  its  sweetest  flowers  hath  shed 

Upon  her  lowly  tomb  ; 
The  willow  droops  above  her  head, 

There  spring's  first  roses  bloom. 

I  would  not  call  her  back,  though  lone 

My  earthly  pathway  be  ; 
Though  oft  I  miss  her  gentle  tone 

Of  softest  melody. 

I  would  not  have  that  brow  of  light 

Shadowed  by  earthly  care  ; 
Or  future  pain  and  sorrow  blight 

That  form  so  young  and  fair. 

Sweet  sister  !  tranquil  be  thy  rest 

Beneath  the  flowery  sod  ; 
Pure  as  the  snow  on  mountain-breast 

Thy  spirit  dwells  with  God. 

Unblighted  by  the  ills  of  life, 

Unsullied  by  its  sin  ; 
Without  the  conflict  and  the  strife, 

Didst  thou  thy  haven  win. 

Well  may  we  weep  who  linger  here, 

By  earthly  snares  beset ; 
Yet  o'er  thy  grave  would  shed  no  tear 

Of  pity  or  regret. 


THE   SEA-EAGLE. 


31 


THE  SEA-EAGLE. 


Early  in  1848  a  white-tailed  sea-eao-le  was  brought  to  London 
in  a  Scotch  steamer,  cooped  up  in  a  crib  used  for  wine-bottles,  and 
presenting  a  most  melancholy  and  forlorn  appearance.  A  kind- 
hearted  gentleman,  seeing  him  in  this  woful  plight,  took  pity  on 
him,  purchased  him,  and  took  him  to  Oxford,  he  being  duly 
labeled  at  the  Great  Western  Station,  "  Passenger's  Luggage."  By 
the  care  of  his  new  master,  Mr.  Francis  Buckland,  the  bird  soon 
regained  his  natm'al  noble  aspect,  delighting  especially  to  dip  and 
wash  in  a  pan  of  water,  then  sitting  on  his  perch,  with  his  mag- 
nificent wings  expanded  to  their  full  extent,  basking  in  the  sun, 
his  head  always  turned  toward  that  luminary,  whose  glare  he  did 
not  mind. 


82  THE   SEA-EAGLE. 


Afew  nights  after  his  arrival  at  his  new  abode,  the  whole  house 
was  aroused  by  cries  as  of  a  child  in  mortal  agony.  The  night 
was  intensely  dark,  but  at  length  the  boldest  of  the  family  ven- 
tured out  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  In  the  middle  of  the  grass- 
plot  was  the  eagle,  who  had  evidently  a  victim  over  which  he  was 
cowering  with  outspread  wings,  croaking  a  hoarse  defiance  to  the 
intruder  upon  his  nocturnal  banquet.  On  lights  being  brought, 
he  hopped  ofi'  with  his  prey  in  one  claw  to  a  dark  corner,  where 
he  was  left  to  enjoy  it  in  peace,  as  it  was  evidently  not  an  infant 
rustic  from  the  neighboring  village,  as  at  first  feared.  The  mys- 
tery was  not,  however,  cleared  up  for  three  days,  Avhen  it  was  as- 
certained that  he  had  devoured  a  hedgehog.  He  had,  doubtless, 
caught  the  unlucky  hedgepig  when  on  his  rounds  in  search  of 
food,  and,  in  spite  of  his  formidable  armor  of  bristles,  had  managed 
to  uncoil  him  with  his  sharp  bill,  and  to  devour  him.  IIow  the 
prickles  found  their  way  down  his  throat  is  best  known  to  him- 
self; but  it  must  have  been  rather  a  stimulating  feast. 

This  eagle  was,  Avitli  good  reason,  the  terror  of  all  the  other  pets 
in  the  house.  On  one  occasion  he  pursued  a  little  black  and  tan 
terrier,  hopping  with  fearful  jumps,  assisted  by  his  wings,  which, 
happily  for  the  aftVighted  dog,  had  been  recently  clipped.  To  this 
the  little  favorite  owed  his  life,  as  he  crept  through  a  hedge 
which  his  assailant  could  not  fly  over  ;  but  it  was  a  very  near 
thing,  as,  if  the  dog's  tail  had  not  been  between  his  legs,  it  would 
certainly  have  been  seized  by  the  claw,  which  was  thrust  after  him 
just  as  he  bolted  through  the  briers.  Less  fortunate  was  a  beauti- 
ful little  kitten,  the  pet  of  the  nursery :  a  few  tufts  of  hair  alone 
marked  the  depository  of  her  i-emains.  Several  guinea-pigs  and 
sundry  hungry  cats,  too,  paid  the  debt  of  nature  through  his 
means  ;  but  a  sad  loss  was  that  of  a  jackdaw  of  remarkable  col- 
loquial jx)wers  and  unbounded  assurance,  who  rashly  paying  a  visit 
01  a  friendly  nature  to  the  eagle,  was  instantly  devoured.  Master 
Jacko,  the  monkey,  on  one  occasion,  only  saved  his  dear  life  by 
swiftness  of  foot,  getting  on  the  branch  of  a  tree  just  as  the 
eagle  came  rushing  to  its  foot  with  outspread  wings  and  open  beak. 
The  legend  is,  that  Jacko  became  rather  suddenly  gray  after  this  ; 
but  the  matter  is  open  to  doubt. 


THE   SEA-EAGLE.  83 


One  fine  summer's  morning  the  window  of  the  breakftist-room 
was  thrown  open  previous  to  the  appearance  of  the  family.  On 
the  table  was  placed  a  ham  of  remarkable  flavor  and  general 
populaiity,  fully  meriting  the  high  encomiums  which  had  been 
passed  upon  it  the  previous  day.  The  rustling  of  female  garments 
was  heai'd,  the  breakfast-room  door  opened,  and,  O,  what  a  sight! 
There  was  the  eagle  perched  upon  the  ham,  tearing  away  at  it 
with  unbounded  appetite,  his  talons  firmly  fixed  in  the  rich,  deep 
fat.  Finding  himself  distui'bed,  he  endeavored  to  fly  oft"  with  the 
prize,  and  made  a  sad  clatter  with  it  among  the  cups  and  sau- 
cers :  finding,  however,  that  it  was  too  heavy  for  him,  he  suddenly 
dropped  it  on  the  rich  carpet,  snatched  up  a  cold  partridge,  and 
made  a  hasty  exit  through  the  window,  well  satisfied  with  his  for- 
aging expedition.  The  ham,  however,  was  left  in  too  deplorable 
a  state  to  bear  description. 

The  eagle  was  afterward  taken  to  London,  and  placed  in  a 
court-yard  near  Westminster  Abbey,  where  he  resided  in  solitary 
majesty.  It  was  from  thence  he  made  his  escape  on  the  9th  of 
April.  He  first  managed  to  flutter  up  to  the  top  of  the  wall ; 
thence  he  took  flight  unsteadily,  and  with  diflSculty,  until  he  had 
cleared  the  bouses  ;  but  as  he  ascended  into  mid-air  his  strength 
returned,  and  he  soared  majestically  up,  as  has  been  narrated. 
After  his  disappearance,  his  worthy  master  said,  with  a  disconso- 
late air,  "  Well,  I've  seen  the  last  of  my  eagle  ;"  but  thinking  that 
he  might  possibly  find  his  way  back  to  his  old  haunt,  a  chicken 
was  tied  to  a  stick  in  the  court-yard  ;  and,  just  before  dark,  mas- 
ter eagle  came  back,  his  huge  wings  rustling  in  the  air.  The 
chicken  cowered  down  to  the  ground,  but  in .  vain  ;  the  eagle  saw 
him,  and  pounced  down  in  a  moment  in  his  old  abode.  While 
he  was  busily  engaged  in  devouring  the  chicken,  a  plaid  was 
thrown  over  his  head,  and  he  was  easily  secured.  After  this  es- 
capade he  was  sent  to  the  Zoological  Gardens,  Regent's  Park, 
where  he  may  be  recognised  by  his  having  lost  the  outside  claw 
of  the  left  foot. 

VOL.  IV.  2*  JT 


84  THE   GOOD    OLD   PLOUGH. 


THE  GOOD  OLD  PLOUGH. 

Let  them  sing  who  may,  of  the  battle  fray, 

And  the  deeds  that  have  long  since  passed ; 
Let  them  chant  in  praise  of  the  tar  whose  days 

Are  spent  on  the  ocean  vast ; 
I  would  render  to  these  all  the  worship  you  please, 

I  would  honor  them  even  now  ; 
But  I'd  give  far  more,  from  my  heart's  full  store, 

To  the  cause  of  the  good  old  plough. 

Let  them  laud  the  notes  that  in  music  float, 

Through  the  bright  and  glittering  halls ; 
While  the  amorous  twirl  of  the  hair's  bright  curl 

Round  the  shoulder  of  beauty  falls; 
But  dearer  to  me  is  the  song  from  the  tree, 

And  the  rich  and  blossoming  bough; 
O,  these  are  the  sweets  which  the  rustic  greets, 

As  he  follows  the  good  old  plough. 

Full  many  there  be  that  we  daily  see, 

With  a  selfish  and  hollow  pride. 
Who  the  ploughman's  lot,  in  his  humble  cot. 

With  a  scornful  look  deride ; 
But  I'd  rather  take,  ay,  a  hearty  shake 

From  his  hand  than  to  wealth  I'd  bow: 
For  the  honest  grasp  of  his  hand's  rough  clasp, 

Has  stood  by  the  good  old  plough. 

All  honor  be  then  to  these  gray  old  men. 

When  at  last  they  are  bowed  with  toil. 
Their  warfare  then  o'er,  they  battle  no  more, 

For  they've  conquered  the  stubborn  soil, 
And  the  chaplet  each  wears  in  his  silver  hairs ; 

And  ne'er  shall  the  victor's  brow 
With  a  laurel  crown  to  the  grave  go  down. 

Like  the  sons  of  the  good  old  plough. 


THE    PLOUGH  MAX. 


THE   BITTER   GRIEF.  87 


THE  BITTER  GRIEF. 


BY   WM.    EDWARD    KNOWLES. 


Drifting,  and  forever  drifting-, 
Down  the  pathway  of  my  feet. 

Is  the  grief  that  has  been  sifting, 
Slowly  sifting,  rain  and  sleet. 

It  was  when  my  little  sister 

Closed  her  eyes  in  sign  of  rest; 

And  my  mother,  weeping,  kissed  her, 
Telling  me  that  she  was  blest, 

That  my  grief  commenced  its  drifting 
Down  the  pathway  of  my  feet. 

Sifting  slow,  and  slowly  sifting, 
Flakes  of  snow,  and  flakes  of  sleet. 

Tried  I  then  in  vain  to  wake  her, 

Calling  loud  to  her  in  vain  ; 
But  that  sleep  would  not  forsake  her, 

That  those  eyes  might  ope  again. 

She  is  sleeping,  sweetly  sleeping. 
Thought  I,  as  I  called  her  name ; 

But  a  chill  was  o'er  me  creeping, 
As  I  saw  she  slept  the  same. 

And  the  day  was  dark  with  sorrow. 
When  I,  weeping,  scarce  did  know. 

That  my  sister,  ere  the  morrow, 
Would  be  sleeping  in  the  snow — 

Soon  would  sleep  where  storms  were  siftint 
Flakes  of  snow  and  flakes  of  sleet ; 

With  the  storms  of  sorrow  drifting 
Down  the  pathway  of  my  feet. 

Years  have  passed,  and  I  am  weeping, 

That  I  did  not  find  relief. 
In  the  same  mound  that  is  keeping 

The  loved  object  of  my  grief. 


38  HOMEWAED   BOUND. 

Yet  my  feet  shall  not  grow  weary, 
Though  the  way  is  long  before  ; 

Nor  my  heart  grow  sad  and  dreary, 
Ere  I  reach  the  for-ofF  shore. 

Never  then  sliall  I  be  weeping: 
I  shall  understand  and  know 

That  my  sister  is  not  sleeping 
In  the  mound  within  the  snow ; 

But  an  angel,  high  in  heaven, 
Taken  from  this  strife  below, 

And  to  her  young  heart  is  given 
Truths  that  mortals  cannot  know. 


HO^IEWAED  BOUND. 

The  mariner  on  the  bounding  sea 

Right  joyful  trims  his  sails. 
His  ship  is  s'aunch,  and  what  cares  he 

For  the  rudely  whistling  gales? 
At  the  helm  is  a  faithful  pilot  found, 
And  joyful  he  cries:  "  Tm  homeward  bound." 

The  Christian  on  life's  stormy  sea 

Thus  gladly  guides  his  bark  ; 
Faith  is  his  pilot,  and  what  cares  lie 

Tho'  all  around  be  dark  ? 
His  eye  is  fixed  on  a  beacon-light. 
And  onward  he  steers  through  storm  and  night. 

He  is  homeward  bound — the  land  of  the  blest, 

Is  his  haven  sure  and  bright, 
Where  he  his  time-worn  bark  may  rest 

'Mid  stre:  ms  of  living  light; 
No  more  shall  the  tempests  of  time  assail ; 
No  more  be  tossed  by  the  treacherous  gale. 

MAGNOLIA. 


MY  WREN   FAMILY. 


39 


MY  WEEN  FAMILY. 

Thinking  it  quite  likely,  last  spring,  that  some  blue  bird  or 
wren  would  like  accommodations  for  a  nest  near  my  dwelling,  I 
bad  a  box  made,  and  after  providing  it  witb  some  nice,  fine  bay, 
had  it  placed  on  the  outside  of  the  barn,  next  the  garden.  The 
blue  birds,  in  a  short  time,  found  out  the  retreat ;  but,  somehow 
or  other,  they  did  not  seem  exactly  to  fancy  the  situation.  Per- 
liaps  they  were  a  little  afraid  of  Lion,  our  good-natured,  though 
frolicksome  dog.  Possibly,  as  we  were  new-comers  in  these  parts, 
they  entertained  some  honest  doubts  (knowing  that  there  is  a  vast 
difference  in  mankind  as  to  their  regard  for  the  bird  race)  whether 
we  would  treat  their  family  kindly.  And,  it  may  be,  after  talking 
the  matter  all  over,  that  they  thought  a  dwelling  in  some  old, 
hollow  apple-tree  would  be  safer  and  better.  At  all  events,  they 
didn't  conclude  to  occupy  the  home  I  had  offered  them.  It  was 
well  for  them,  too,  I  suspect,  that  they  chose  another  habitation  ; 
for  if  they  had  attempted  to  settle  here,  they  would,  just  as  likely 
as  not,  have  been  routed  by  the  wrens,  as  those  chaps  are  great 
fighters,  and  make  nothing  of  turning  a  family  of  blue  birds  right 


40  MY  WEEN  FAMILY. 

out  of  doors.  I  say,  perhaps  it  was  better  as  it  was  ;  for  the  wrens 
soon  got  their  minds  on  the  place,  and  occupied  it. 

I  wish  you  could  have  seen  that-  pair  of  wrens  at  tlie  moment 
when  they  discovered  the  box,  with  its  conveniences  for  a  nest. 
The  husband  pretended  to  be  the  first  discoverer.  Whether  he 
was  or  not,  is  more  than  I  can  say.  The  male  wren  is  a  great 
blusterer,  anyway.  He  claims  all  that  belongs  to  him,  and  a 
little  more.  In  this  respect,  he  is  very  like  Beau  Nash,  our  king- 
let of  the  barn-yard.  Beau  considers  it  his  duty,  of  course,  always 
to  make  an  inordinate  fuss  over  whatever  in  the  shape  of  kernels 
of  corn,  or  bugs,  or  pai-ticularly  fleshy  angle-worms,  he  is  so  for- 
tunate as  to  find  ;  and  he  calls  the  tribe  under  his  command  to 
come  and  help  themselves  to  these  nice  morsels,  with  as  much 
pride  and  pomp  as  Napoleon  would  display,  when  he  returned  to 
Paris  from  one  of  his  ^^ctories,  with  his  ill-gotten  spoil.  That, 
however,  is  quite  pardonable,  as  Beau  has  such  high  authority 
for  the  habit.  But  his  arrogance  and  egotism  lead  him  to  claim 
the  merit  of  discovering  everything  valuable  that  turns  up  in  the 
range  of  his  adventures.  I  have  known  him,  after  some  quiet 
hen  has  been  enjoying  a  breakfast  for  five  minutes,  suddenly  run 
to  the  spot  where  her  henship  was  regaling  herself,  and  say,  as 
plainly  as  a  rooster  could  say,  "  Lovik  here,  my  lady.  See  what  a 
nice  morsel  I  have  found  for  you.  It  takes  me  to  provide  for  a 
family.  vSuch  keen  eyes  as  I  have  got !  I  can  see  a  worm  half  a 
mile  off."  And  then  he  is  sure  to  call  all  the  rest  of  the  family, 
and  to  cackle  out  his  praise,  under  pretence  of  inviting  them  to 
breakfast. 

But  to  our  wrens.  Such  a  noise  as  the  gallant  husband  made 
over  that  newly-discovered  place  for  a  nest !  He  was  quite  beside 
himself  with  joy  and  self-laudation.  And  he  was  not  only  beside 
himself,  but  he  was  beside  his  mate,  too,  who  was  sitting,  thought- 
fully, upon  the  side  of  the  barn,  while  her  consort  was  making  such 
a  bluster — he  was  beside  her,  pretty  soon,  trying  to  infuse  some- 
thing of  his  enthusiasm  into  her  bi-east.  A  very  quiet,  matronly 
wi-en,  was  Jenny,  though.  Poetry  and  romance  she  seemed  to 
have  had  none,  perhaps  because  her  partner  had  usurped  so  much 
of  both  for  his  share.     She  merely  replied  to  his  fidgety  encomiums 


MY   WREN   FAMILY.  41 


on  the  delicious  retreat  wliicii  he  Lad  found,  that  she  thought  it 
not  unlikely  it  would  prove  a  suitable  enough  place  for  a  nest. 

And  so  they — the  noisy,  rolicking,  boastful  husband,  and  the 
quiet,  matter-of-fact,  matronly  wife — built  their  nest,  and  in  pro- 
cess of  time  it  was  adorned  by  four  of  the  prettiest  little  eggs  im- 
aginable. They  both  became  very  tame.  Jenny,  especially,  when 
she  could  be  spared  from  her  nest,  would  come  up  to  our  very  door 
to  get  food  for  her  young.  I  liave  known  her,  indeed — the  con- 
fiding creature ! — repeatedly  fly  into  the  wash-house,  while  the 
laundress  was  at  work  there,  and  help  herself  to  such  morsels  of 
Lion's  dinner  as  remained  unappropriated,  for  which  exhibition  of 
confidence  Lion — to  his  shame  be  it  said — repaid  lier  by  chasing 
her  all  around  the  yard,  whenever  he  could  get  a  chance.  As  for 
Master  Fidget,  the  wren  husband — I'll  say  that  for  him — ^lie  was 
one  of  the  most  attentive  husbands  I  was  ever  acquainted  with, 
while  his  partner  was  busy  with  the  household  affairs.  I  suppose 
Jenny,  though  herself  unable  to  sing,  to  have  been  a  great  lover 
of  music.  At  all  events.  Fidget  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted 
that  she  had  a  very  appreciative  musical  taste,  and  a  good  deal 
of  it ;  for,  sitting  near  by,  sometimes  on  the  barn,  sometimes  on 
the  grape  arbor,  and  sometimes  on  the  threshold  of  his  house,  he 
would  sing  to  her  almost  from  morning  till  night,  and  I  sometimes 
half-suspected  that  he  kept  up  his  twittering  all  night,  for  I  fre- 
quently left  him  hard  at  it  when  I  went  to  bed. 

The  notes  of  the  wren  are  very  pleasant.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  enjoyed  the  music  of  the  one  which  I  called  my  own,  be- 
cause he  took  possession  of  the  box  I  had  fitted  up  on  my  own 
piemisos.  In  the  morning,  especially,  between  four  and  five  o'clock, 
his  solo  was  delightful. 


"He  Avhose  religion  is  ever  on  his  lips,"  says  one,  "has  sel- 
dom any  of  it  in  his  heart ;  it  keeps  watch,  like  a  liveried  por- 
ter at  his  door,  but  there  is  nobody  at  home,  and  thei'e  is  nothing 
to  steal  ;  if  it  were  well  lodged  in  his  soul,  he  would  not  be  afraid 
of  its  escape.  He  who  vouches  for  his  own  truthfulness  by  an  oath, 
will  tell  a  lie  the  next  moment  without  a  blush." 


4:2  VACATION  DIALOGUE. 


VACATION  DIALOG-UE. 


Vacation's  here,  but  I  don't  see 
Whether  sad  or  glad  to  be. 
I  love  study,  books,  and  school ; 
I  have  tried  to  keep  each  rule; 
And  it  truly  makes  me  grieve 
That  my  schoolmates  I  must  leave. 


Soon  over  the  prairies  and  hills  I'll  be  flying-. 
I'll  laugh  and  I'll  shout  with  my  dear  little  brother, 
And  thro'  the  fresh  hay  we'll  go  chasing  each  other. 
I'll  call  to  the  birds  at  the  top  of  my  voice, 
"  Vacation  has  come !   why  don't  you  rejoice  ?" 


Well,  I  do  ;  and  many  a  day 
I  shall  frolic,  laugh,  and  play. 
Father  kind  and  mother  dear 
Fain  I  would  be  always  near. 
Still  I  cannot,  without  pain, 
Leave  my  darling  books  again. 

SALLY. 

Books !  oh,  'tis  ftir  too  hard  work  to  be  wise ! 
And  studying  Latin  puts  out  my  eyes. 
Arithmetic  snarls  up  the  thoughts  in  my  brain ; 
And  pronouns  and  verbs  put  me  into  sad  pain. 
Away  with  all  books  to  the  end  of  the  nation  I 
No  study  shall  trouble  me  through  the  vacation. 


Yes,  but  then  you  know  you  might 
Quite  forget  to  parse  and  write. 
Sure  you  would  not  throw  off,  clear, 


BRAZILIAN  VESPER  BELL.  43 

All  the  labor  of  the  year. 

Clouds  are  seen  in  sunny  weather; 

Books  and  play  must  come  together. 


Study  then,  if  you  please  ;  /  like  frolicking  better, 
So  don't  make  me  put  my  glad  heart  under  fetter. 


Oh  !  play  if  you  wish,  but  don't  bid  me  spurn 
The  knowledge  I've  studied  so  closely  to  learn. 

BOTH. 

But  what  is  the  best  thing  for  us  both  to  try? 
Some  play  and  some  study.    We'll  do  it,    Good-lrye ! 

^fONTICELLO. 


THE  BRAZILIAN  VESPER  BELL. 

In  Brazil,  all  journeys  are  suspended  at  the  Ave  Maria,  that  is, 
the  vespers  to  the  Virgin,  which  commence  after  sunset.  Instead 
of  a  curfew,  a  very  simple  and  pleasing  circumstance  announces 
this  period  in  the  country.  A  large  beetle,  with  silver  wings,  just 
then  issues  forth,  and,  by  the  winding  of  its  small,  but  solemn 
and  sonorous  horn,  proclaims  the  hour  of  prayer.  A  coincidence 
so  striking,  and  so  regular  and  frequent  in  its  occurrence  as  this, 
was  not  likely  to  escape  the  honor  of  a  religious  superstition  to 
account  for  it.  Accordingly,  the  inhabitants  of  that  country  re- 
gard it  as  a  sacred  insect,  supposing  that  it  is  a  herald  expressly 
commissioned  by  the  Virgin  to  announce  the  time  of  her  evening 
prayer.  Hence,  it  is  called  the  Ave  Maria  Beetle.  "  On  the  hill 
of  Santa  Theresa,"  says  a  modern  traveler,  "I  hav«  heard  it  often 
in  the  evening,  humming  round  the  convent,  and  joining  its  har- 
monious bass  to  the  sweet  chant  of  the  nuns  within  at  their  evening 
service." 


44 


WONDERS   OF  THE   UNIVERSE. 


WONDERS  OF  THE  UNIVERSE. 


'i 


^f 


^\^mi>mi\m'tiifiA  ^^  circumference  of  this  globe  is  computed  to  be 
^.^B^P^     25,000  miles,  and  it  revolves  once  on  its  axis  in 
24  hours;  consequently,  any  one  spot  is  carried 
round  25,000  miles  in  that  S2:)ace  of  time,  which 
is  upwards  of  1040  miles  in  an  hour,  or  173  miles  in  one 
minute  !     Vast  as  this  may  seem,  yet,  when  put  in  com- 
petition with  the  amazing  velocity  of  the  earth  in  its  orbit, 
this,  of  its  diurnal  evolution  on  its  axis,  though  indeed  astonishingly 
great,  is  comparatively  tritling  and  insignificant. 

The  distance  of  the  earth  from  the  sun  is  195,000,000  miles, 
which,  being  the  radius  of  the  earth's  orbit,  we  shall  have  its 
diameter  390,000,000  miles,  and  consequently  the  circumference 
1225,000,000.  Now,  as  the  earth  revolves  round  the  sun  once  in 
365  days,  it  would  travel  (dividing  1225,00,0000  by  365)  about 
5,360,000  miles  one  day,  or  140,000  in  an  hour.  By  this  calculation, 
we  shall  find  that  the  earth  is  whirled,  through  the  immense  region, 
of  space,  at  the  amazing  velocity  of  2330  miles  in  a  single  minute. 

Astonishing  as  this  tact  is,  yet  when  compared  with  those  things 
which  have  come  more  immediately  under  our  observation,  it  is  by 
no  means  irreconcilable.  Those  who  know  with  what  great  rapidity 
the  blood  is  driven  from  the  heart  to  the  extremities  of  the  human 
system,  and  reflect  that  this  rapidity  is  no  greater  than  is  actually 
necessary  for  the  health  and  support  of  the  body,  may  conceive 
with  such  velocity  such  vast  bodies  as  this,  and  other  surrounding 
worlds,  must  be  impelled  in  their  course,  in  order  that  they  may  be 
kept  in  their  respective  spheres,  in  a  state  of  health,  regularity,  and 
order :  for,  as  an  ingenious  poet  expresses  himself, 

"  Constant  rotation  of  t"h'  unwearied  wheel. 
That  nature  rides  upon,  maintains  her  health, 
Her  heauty,  her  fertility. — She  dreads 
An  instant's  pause,  and  lives  hut  while   she  moves.'' 


EDITOEIAL  TABLE   TALK. 


45 


EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


LETTER    FROM    MY    SCOTTISH    NIECE. 


.^'>: 


f;v.  BOUT  a  year  ago,  Avliile  in  Scotland,  on  my  way  from 
^i\s  Sterling  to  Loch  Lomond  and  Locli  Katrine,  in  the 
k^.j^L^  Highlands,  I  fell  in  company  with  an  intelligent 
/;-);■-■' 7j.>=^-'  Scotch  gentleman,  his  wife  and  two  daughters,  in 
>  ^>'\'  whose  society  I  remained  while  making  my  pleasant  but 
^^  too  brief  tour  amid  the  charming  scenery  of  the  Highland 
lakes.  One  of  these  misses,  quite  young,  but  not  too  young  to  be 
quite  familiar  with  the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  the  scene  of  which,  you 
know,  is  laid  near  one  of  these  lakes,  entertained  me  not  a  little  by 
her  lively  conveisation  respecting  the  country  through  which  we 
passed.  I  parted  with  this  family,  not  without  a  great  deal  of  re- 
gi-et,  at  Glasgow — they  returning  to  their  home,  near  the  ivy-clad 
ruins  of  the  old  castle  which  gave  birth  to  the  first  Charles — I 
proceeding  to  Liverpool,  whence  I  soon  embai-ked  for  America. 
A  month  or  two  after  my  return,  I  sent  a  copy  of  the  Cabinet  to 
several  whose  acquaintance  I  made  in  Europe,  and  to  this  Scottish 
family  among  the  rest.  Xot  long  since,  I  received  a  letter  from  one 
of  the  family.  Miss  Isabella,  the  girl  who  quoted  Sir  Walter  Scott 
so  readily,  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  my  parcel.  Didn't  it  seem 
odd  to  be  addressed  by  the  title  of  "  Uncle  Frank"  by  a  girl  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic  ?  "Well,  I'm  not  ashamed  of  such  rela- 
tives, whether  they  live  in  the  AVesterii  or  the  Eastern  hemisphere ; 
and  I  have  a  mind  to  give  you  a  paragraph  or  two  from  her  letter, 
just  to  let  you  see  what  kind  of  nieces  I  have  in  Europe  : 

"  Charlestowx  Cottage.  2d  M;n',  1853. 
'■'■  Dear  Uncle  Frank, — How  kind  of  you  not  to  foi'get  us.     The 
hours  we  spent  with  you  were  very,  very  pleasant ;  and  although 
we,  when  chatting  about  our  visit  to  the  Trosachs,  always  spoke  of 


46  EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 

you  with  interest,  not  as  a  stranger  whom  one  meets  and  thinks 
of  no  more,  but  as  a  dear  friend,  whom  we  had  known  intimately, 
yet  we  imagined  that  you,  in  the  joy  of  being  with  your  friends 
after  such  a  long  absence,  would  have  no  time  to  bestow  a  thought 
on  us.  Judge,  then,  how  agreeably  surprised  we  were,  when 
father  received  your  package  a  short  time  ago.  And  now  I  must 
thank  jou  for  the  delightful  little  magazine  you  sent  me.  The 
children  are  quite  delighted  with  '  Chick-a-de-de.'  They  sing  it 
very  often,  and  sister  Mary  accompanies  them  on  the  piano.  The 
'  Brooklyn  Polka'  is  veiy  pretty. 

"  It  is  generally  believed  that  Louis  Napoleon  intends  to  invade 
England.  Well,  if  he  does  make  an  attempt,  surely  our  good 
brother  Jonathan  will  help  us  to  chase  him  back  to  France. 

"  We  planted  the  heather  we  brought  home  from  the  Highlands, 
but  it  withered.  Did  yours  grow  ?  I'm  afraid  not.  I'm  sure 
your  niece  will  never  be  tired  of  listening  to  all  you  have  to  tell 
her  of  the  wonderful  things  you  saw  when  you  were  far  away  from 
her.  Be  sure  you  give  her  a  description  of  our  heather  hills,  and 
also  of  the  Scottish  fairies  you  did  not  see.  You  nuist  not  forget 
your  promise,  that  if  ever  you  visit  Scotland  again,  your  little  niece 
sliould  accompany  you,  and  that  you  would  spend  some  time  with  us. 

"It  will  aftbrd  us  all  great  pleasure  to  hear  from  you.  So, 
Uncle  Frank,  some  evening,  when  you  are  not  much  engaged, 
perhaps  you  will  write  us  a  long,  long  letter. 

"  I  must  not  write  any  more,  lest  I  tire  your  patience.  So,  with 
kind  wishes,  I  shall  say  '  Good  night.' 

"  Yours  very  sincerely,  Isabella ." 

Will  my  friend  Estelle  send  me  the  solution  of  her  enigma  in 
the  number  of  the  Cabinet  for  August,  1852  ?  It  has  been  a  source 
of  great  wonder  to  several  correspondents,  and  I  have  been  obliged 
to  give  a  very  unsatisfactory  answer  to  their  applications  for  en- 
lightenment. 

The  labyrinth  with  Avhich  our  friend  S.  N.  has  puzzled  us  in  this 
number,  is,  I  believe,  the  hardest  one  yet.  Well,  try  it,  all  of  you, 
and  if  you'll  send  on  your  names  as  having  found  your  way  to 
the  centre,  I'll  try  and  find  room  for  them. 


EDITOEIAL   TABLE   TALK.  47 


During  a  recent  visit  to  Auburn,  in  the  interior  of  this  State,  I 
could  not  help  waking  up  to  the  fact,  that  in  this  comparatively 
inconsiderable  town  the  business  of  book-making  is  done  on  a  very 
large  scale.  Two  publishers  there — Messrs.  Derby  &  Miller,  and 
Messrs.  Alden,  Beardsly  &  Co. — are  publishing  and  manuf^icturiug 
books  to  an  extent  which  would  quite  astonish  some  of  the  cock- 
neys, who  have  got  a  notion  that  Xew  York  comprises  the  greater 
portion  of  the  habitable  globe.  Among  the  excellent  works  pub- 
lished by  the  latter  house,  are  the  following,  which  I  have  had 
an  opportunity  of  examining,  and  wdiich  I  am  sure  would  be  re- 
ceived with  favor  in  the  families  of  my  patrons,  whither  I  trust 
some  of  them,  at  least,  will  wend  their  way  :  Heroines  of  the  Cru- 
sades, an  octavo  of  some  five  hundred  pages,  racily  and  ingeniously 
written,  and  abounding  with  the  most  interesting  historic  inci- 
dent; Heroines  of  History,  a  duodecimo  of  about  the  same  num- 
ber of  pages,  by  John  S.  Jenkins,  v,'hicli  I  can  cordially  recommend, 
and  wdiich,  though  recently  published,  has  become  a  very  popular 
Avork  ;  the  Farm  and  the  Fireside,  or  the  Romance  of  Agriculture, 
by  John  L.  Blake,  D.D.  being,  as  the  author  tells  us,  "  half-hour 
sketches  of  life  in  the  country;"  the  Great  Cities  of  the  World; 
and  a  series  of  juvenile  stories,  comprised  in  six  books,  called  the 
Silver  Lake  Stories.  AVhoever  among  my  little  friends  gets  one 
of  these  little  books,  will  get  the  means  of  a  rich  treat.  I  do  as- 
sure you,  the  lady  who  wrote  them  deserves  to  stand  in  the  front 
rank  of  writers  for  the  young.  I  like  her  mode  of  story-telling 
much.  Besides  the  books  above-mentioned,  this  firm  publish  two 
volumes  which  Uncle  Frank  had  a  hand  in  making,  and  on 
which,  in  consequence,  it  becomes  him  to  bestow  his  praise  some- 
what sparingly.  I  may  say,  however,  what  I  honestly  believe, 
that  you  might  find  worse  books  than  these  in  the  market.  One, 
called  Buds  and  Blossoms  from  Our  Own  Garden,  is  the  joint 
production  of  T.  S.  Arthur  and  Uncle  Frank.  The  New  York  and 
Philadelphia  gardens  are  about  equally  represented.  Woodiuorth'^s 
Fireside  Museum  is  an  octavo  of  some  four  hundred  pages,  made 
up  of  articles  bordering  a  little  on  the  strange  and  marvelous. 


48  THE  puzzler's  drawer. 


THE  PUZZLER'S  DRAWER. 

ANSWER    TO    CHARADE    NO.    IX. 

A  is  the  Captain  so  brave  and  so  strong, 

Dell  is  the  valley  of  flower  and  song; 

To  our  neighbor  we  always  should  lend  our  best  aid, 

So  the  name  of  the  whole  is,  I  think,  Adelaide.  s.  n. 


ANSWER    TO    REBUS    NO.   III. 

The  ev'ry  day  word  is  none  other  than  lliread, 

Out  of  which  may  be  made  the  words — tear,  tea,  and  licad. 

s.  N. 
Also  answered  by  Alvaro  F.  Gibbens,  of  Parkersburg,  Va. 


ANSWER    TO    THE    SHAKSPEARIAN    PUZZLE. 

When  Danes'  and  Denmark's  Prince  had  lost  their  king. 
And  Claudius  ruled,  with  damning  passion  blind. 

What  fitter  sneer  could  loyal  Hamlet  bring 

Than  "  little  more  than  kin,  and  less  than  kind^ 

GaLESBURG,  111.  H.  E.  L. 

Also  answered  by  Mary,  of  Belleville,  N.  J. 


In  the  ^larch  number,  I  gave  for  a  puzzle,  "  What  four  letters  will 
make  four  different  words  ?"  It  seems  that  there  are  some  smart  folks 
among  my  readers;  for  different  correspondents  have  sent  me  five  sets 
of  letters  which  will  do  this,  as  follows  : 

Plea,  Mite,  Star,  Reap,  Sent, 

Pale,  Time,  Tars,  Pear,  Nets, 

Peal,  Emit,  Rats,  Rape,  Nest, 

Leap.  Item.  Arts.  Pare.  Tens. 

ANSWER    TO    RIDDLE    NO.    III. 

XVI. 


THE    ARITHMETICAL    PUZZLE    AGAIN. 

There  is  no  use,  my  dear  fellows.  You  can't  make  anything  more 
of  this  thing  than  the  fractional  sum  I  gave  in  the  June  number.  So 
you  need  not  trouble  yourselves  any  more  about  it.  For  my  part,  I 
consider  it  a  very  poor  puzzle,  not  worth  the  paper  it  occupies  in  the 
Cabinet.  If  I  had  known  as  much  when  it  was  submitted  to  me,  I 
should  not  have  published  it. 


THE   puzzler's   DRAWER.  49 

RIDDLE    NO.  I. 
THE    PRIZE    RIDDLE,    IN    PROSE. 

BY   "  WILLIE    N." 

T  AM  originally  a  descendant  of  rags,  but,  in  spite  of  my  mean  origin, 
I  boast  one  of  the  most  numerous  families  in  the  world.  I  wear  the 
countenance  of  a  man,  varying  in  complexion  from  crimson  to  azure  ; 
and  twice  two  stars  are  my  companions.  But,  although  of  such  dig- 
nity, besides  having  my  face  disfigured,  I  am  continually  spit  upon,  and 
trodden  under  foot  by  nil  mankind,  uho  seem  to  value  me  only  for  my 
good  looks — without  them,  I  am  despised.  I  am  diminutive  in  size, 
and  my  days  are  few,  but  I  am  well  known,  and  constantly  sought  after. 


CHARADE    NO.    I. 

My  first  a  fruit,  for  which  boys  trudge 

Full  many  miles  to  gather ; 
Nor  will  they  toil  or  time  begrudge, 

If  having  to  go  farther. 
What  sport  to  climb  the  loaded  tree. 

And  shake  the  fruit  in  showers — 
What  sport  upon  the  bended  knee. 

To  work  with  all  boy's  powers ! 

My  second  have  you  often  seen, 

If  with  a  ship  acquainted  ; 
And  oft  have  used  it  too,  I  ween. 

When  you  the  deck  have  mounted  : 
The  sailor  knows  it  well,  and  deems 

No  native  threshold  dearer ; 
Boys  often  know  the  same  in  dreams, 

And  long  to  know  it  nearer. 

My  whole  a  bird,  who  in  my  first 

Doth  find  his  staple  diet, 
Methinks  his  mouth  is  seldom  pursed, 

Or  seldom  ever  quiet: 
In  Europe  dwells  he,  but  we  have 

A  bird  of  kindred  feather; 
Perchance  my  whole  across  the  wave, 

Dislikes  our  freezing  weather.  laura. 

vol  .   IV.  ^  .TY 


50 


CHARADE    NO.    If. 

Curtail  me  once,  I  am  a  youth ; 

Behead  me  once,  a  snake  ; 
Complete  I'm  often  used  in  truth 

When  certain  steps  you  take. 


anagrams  of  scripture  xames. 

1.  Rule,  James.  3.  Has  no  dread. 

2.  Kate  is  lame.  4.  I  moan. 

What  names  are  these,  and  where  are  they  mentioned  in  the  Bible 


ENIGMA    NO.    I. 

I  AM  born  of  a  mament,  as  ev'ry  one  knows, 

And  rival  the  tints  of  the  loveliest  rose ; 

There  are  many  who  think  me  the  offspring  of  shame, 

But  I'm  oftener  found  in  sweet  modesty's  train, 

E'en  poets  have  made  me  the  theme  of  their  muse, 

And  painters  have  studied  my  delicate  hues  : 

Yet,  would  you  believe  it !  I  cause  much  vexation 

To  those  who  possess  me,  and  some  irritation  ; 

For  I've  often  betrayed  what  they  would  have  concealed, 

And  some  of  their  most  cherished  secrets  revealed : 

So  be  truthful,  dear  girls,  or  in  spite  of  your  tact, 

I'll  fly  in  your  faces  and  tell  the  whole  fact.  s.  n. 


ENIGMA    NO.  II. 

Dear  child,  you'll  not  find  motto,  one  more  worth  its  weight  in  gold 

Than  this  tri-worded  motto,  which  I'd  have  you  now  unfold  : 

'Twill  be  a  fitting  precept  e'en  for  any  time  or  place  ; 

Its  first  of  three  components  is  your  being's  crowning  grace  ; 

If  yours  upon  the  playground,  it  will  make  your  step  how  light! 

If  yours  around  the  fireside,  it  will  make  the  flame  how  bright ! 

Yea,  all  who  know  its  influence,  its  blessed  holy  spell,  * 

Will  surely  own  its  virtue  can  the  tongue  but  feebly  tell. 

Its  eighth,  fifth,  sixth,  and  thirteenth,  with  its  tenth  for  perfect  length, 

Will  design.ite  the  spot  wherein  its  first  four  dwells  in  strength  ; 

Its  eleventh,  twelfth,  are  even  as  its  eighth  and  fifth  the  same, 

Its  ninth  and  second  too  are  like,  and  C  its  seventh's  name  : 

Now  tell  me  what  the  maxim  says  when  in  its  simple  whole, 

And  tell  me  if  its  spirit  sweet  your  conduct  doth  control.       laura. 


THE  DIAMOND  LABYKINTH. 


A    PUZZLE BY    S.    X, 


52  THE  puzzler's  drawer. 


GEOGRAPHICAL    QUESTION. 

Two  persons  started  from  New  York,  Thursday  noon,  April  1st, 
1852,  on  a  tour  around  the  world,  one  going-  east  and  the  other  west ; 
they  arrived  at  New  York  Friday  noon,  April  Lst,  1853, 

What  day  of  the  week  and  month  did  each  suppose  it  to  be  at  the 
time  of  arrival  ?  How  long  the  day,  and  how  many  days  to  the  year  of 
each  ?  On  what  day  of  the  week  will  the  travelers  pass  each  other  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  earth?  And  which  will  calculate^  the  days 
rightly,  and  at  what  place  will  the  other  lose  the  right  calculation  ? 

Livonia,  N.  Y.  amanuensis. 

riddle  no.  ii. 

I'm  swift  as  a  shadow;  I'm  slow  as  a  snail; 
I  fly  like  the  storm-cloud  impelled  by  the  gale ; 
I  sail  with  the  mariner  o'er  the  wide  sea. 
And  traverse  the  shore  with  "the  bird  and  the  bee. 
I  travel  by  day  and  I  travel  by  night, 
And  rarely  from  mortals  I  pass  out  o^  sight. 
I  dwell  in  the  palace  of  nobles  and  kings, 
But  scorn  not  the  cot  where  the  poor  mother  sings; 
But  though  I  abide  with  the  lowliest  poor,         .    ^ 
I  ne'er  have  been  turned  from  the  rich  man's  dooW 
I'm  seen  in  the  moon,  when  it  waxes  and  wanes,  ^ 
In  the  sun,  too,  at  times  when  nature  complains,  \ 
I'm  courted  much  under  shady  bowers. 
And  welcomed  at  midnight  or  noon-day  hours. 
I  fly  round -the  world  each  passing  day, 
And  yet  I'm  as  idle  as  a  boy  at  play ; 
Nor  do  I  repose  at  the  set  of  the  sun, 
But  wing  my  way  by  the  light  of  the  moon. 
By  day  and  by  night  I  enter  the  door 
Of  high  and  of  low,  of  rich  and  of  poor ; 
And  yet  with  a  step  so  noiseless  I  come, 
I'm  not  an  intruder  abroad  or  at  home. 
All  deeds  of  darkness  I  ever  eschew, 
Though  many  such  deeds  I  am  forced  to  view; 
And  now,  since  so  often  my  features  are^^en. 
Unless  you  can  guess  me,  you  surely  are  grefen. 
Metamora,  111.  m.  n.  m. 


^Jl^«^_^ 


'^1 


-;«": 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOR  IN  LONDON. 


55 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOE  IN  LONDON. 


liLT.  it  be  agreeable  to  you,  reader,  to  glance  for  a 
moment  at  the  condition  of  the  poorer  classes 
in  the  great  British  metropolis  ?  Such  a  glance 
may  interest  you,  and  perhaps  it  will  do  you  good,  for 
it  is  well  to  be  familiar  with  the  suflferings  as  well  as 
the  enjoyments  of  our  fellow-men.  In  no  city  on  the 
globe,  probably,  can  one  see  the  extremes  of  society  in 
such  close  contact  as  in  London.  My  lodgings,  while  there,  w^ere 
in  the  Strand,  only  a  door  or  two  from  the  Somerset  Hous^,  where 
the  tide  of  travel  is  perhaps  as  great  as  in  any  portion  of  the  city. 
This  imposing  edifice,  by  the  w^ay,  has  a  history  of  its  own  worth 
relating.  It  w^as  built  by  Somerset  the  Protector,  through  whom 
it  received  its  name.  For  some  time,  it  was  one  of  the  most  splen- 
did palaces  in  the  kingdom.  After  the  Protector's  execution,  it 
became  the  property  of  the  Crown.  During  the  reign  of  the  first 
Charles,  and  perhaps  before  that,  it  was  the  residence  of  the  Queen 
Consort  of  England.  Here  Queen  Henrietta  Maria,  Charles'  wife, 
entertained  her  extravagant  French  household,  until  the  king  got 
tired  of  them,  and  expelled  them  from  the  kingdom.  Somerset 
House  is  now  appropriated  to  the  use  of  various  government  offices. 
It  has  two  fi'onts — one  on  the  Thames,  and  the  other  on  the  Strand. 
It  is  a  most  imposing  edifice  in  its  appearance,  as  you  can  see  by 
the  engraving. 

It  was  in  my  walks  in  the  Strand,  in  front  of  this  building  and 
near  it,  that  I  noticed  so  often  the  contrasts  between  the  wealthy 
and  the  A|[|^,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  poor  and  degraded,  on  the 
other.  Many  a  time,  when  fatigued  with  a  long  walk,  have  I  taken 
my  stand  at  the  window  of  the  room  where  I  lodged,  and  watched 
the  tide  of  liuman  life,  as  it  ebbed  and  flowed  in  tlie  Strand.     At 


56       A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOR  IN  LONDON. 

one  moment  I  gazed  upon  the  gay  equipage  of  some  great  duke, 
or  lord,  as  it  dashed  by,  with  servants  in  splendid  livery ;  at  an- 
other moment,  the  scene  changed,  and  a  most  disgusting  beggar,  a 
perfect  burlesque  on  humanity,  hobbled  along,  covered  with  rags 
and  filth. 

Hundreds  and  thousands  of  people  in  this  great  metropolis,  live 
in  a  state  of  the  utmost  want  and  wretchedness.  They  do  not 
know,  when  it  is  noon,  where  they  shall  sleep  when  the  night 
comes.  When  they  are  fortunate  enough  to  get  a  dinner,  they 
have  no  idea  when  or  how  they  shall  get  their  supper.  Many  chil- 
dren are  educated  to  beg  and  pick  pockets.  There  cannot  be  im- 
agined a  more  wretched  life  than  these  poor  children  lead,  and  the 
majority  of  them  grow  up  to  be  wicked  men  and  women. 

I  got  acquainted  with  a  good  man,  while  in  this  great  town,  who 
told  me  a  great  many  interesting  anecdotes  about  the  poor.  He 
told  me  one  of  a  boy,  who,  poor  as  he  was,  got  his  mother  out  of 
prison  with  his  own  hands.  She  was  fined  by  the  judge,  for  some 
wrong'act,  ten  shillings  ;  but  as  she  could  not  pay  the  money,  she  was 
thrown  into  jail  for  a  month.  Tlie  boy,  who  was  only  twelve  years 
old,  went  to  a  good  man,  and  borrowed  the  ten  shillings,  and  got 
his  mother  out  of  jail,  and  then,  for  days  and  weeks,  almost 
starved  to  save  money  to  pay  back  that  whicli  he  had  borrowed. 
And  he  did  pay  it  back,  every  penny  of  it,  though  to  do  so  he 
slept  more  than  one  night  out  in  the  open  air,  and  lived  for  many 
days  upon  nothing  but  bread  and  water,  and  a  small  quantity  of 
that.  "  I  saw  the  boy,*'  said  this  good  man,  "  more  than  once,  and 
when  I  saw  him,  he  was  ragged  enough  ;  but  his  face  was  noble, 
and  although  poverty  had  made  his  cheeks  pale,  yet  his  eyes  were 
bright  and  his  forehead  hopeful.  I  asked  him  how  he  lived,  and 
he  told  me."  In  the  summer  months,  it  seemed,  he  lives  by 
selling  water-cress,  and  in  the  winter  by  selling  matches.  He  is 
obliged  in  the  summer  to  get  up  by  two  o'clock,  and  go  on  foot  into 
the  country  for  miles,  and  there  buy  some  water-cress,  and  then 
he  must  trudge  his  way  back,  and  spend  the  day  wjfciering  over 
the  streets  of  London,  trying  to  sell  it.  When  he  is  tfieiiiost  suc- 
cessful, he  only  makes  twenty-five  cents,  and  out  of  that  small  sum, 
he  must  buy  all  that  he  eats  and  drinks,  his  clothes,  and  the  use  of 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOR  IN  LONDON.       57 

a  bed  to  sleep  on  at  night.  But  very  often  be  cannot  sell  all  bis 
water-cress,  and  tben  be  goes  at  night  down  to  the  river-side,  and 
hunts  for  some  old  crate  or  box,  under  which  he  may  crawl  and  go 
to  sleep,  so  as  to  be  protected  from  the  dews  or  rain.  And  if  he 
cannot  find  anything  of  the  kind,  be  lies  down  under  some  of  the 
projecting  stones  of  one  of  the  bridges  across  the  Thames.  He  gets 
along  better  in  summer  than  in  winter  ;  for  in  the  frosty  weather 
it  is  hard  to  go  without  a  warm  bed  and  fire. 

But  amid  all  his  privations,  this  boy  goes  every  night  to  a  rag- 
ged school.  In  the  summer,  when  he  rises  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  he  comes  to  school  every  evening,  just  the  same.  I  won- 
der how  many  of  the  children  of  America  would  think  of  going  to 
school,  when  tired  out  and  pale  for  want  of  sleep. 

I  was  painfully  struck  with  the  fact  while  in  London,  and  indeed 
in  every  part  of  Europe  which  I  visited,  that  there  is  a  great  gulf 
between  the  rich  and  the  poor.  The  poor  and  rich  live  side  by 
side,  and  yet  are  strangers  to  each  other.  While  one  class  is 
starving,  the  other  hardly  knows  what  to  do  with  its  money.  The 
two  classes  have  no  more  to  do  with  each  other,  in  social  hfe,  than 
if  hundreds  of  miles  separated  them.  Is  it  not  enough  to  make 
one  sad  ?  I  have  known  of  cases,  where  people  have  starved  to 
death  in  London,  while  rich  meH  were  passing  by  their  doors  every 
day. 

I  heard  of  a  case,  where  a  boy  who  had  once  enjoyed  a  pleasant 
home,  but  whose  parents  both  died  and  left  him  alone  in  the  world, 
to  battle  with  it  and  to  earn  his  bread.  He  was  a  fine,  open- 
hearted  fellow,  and  would  not  be  dependent  upon  the  charity  of 
others.  There  \vas  no  place  open  to  him  but  the  poor-house,  and 
so  he  found  a  place  where  he  could  work  for  a  trifling  sum  each 
day.  Upon  this  he  continued  to  live.  His  work  was  hard,  and 
his  frame  never  was  strong  ;  but  his  heart  was  strong,  and  he  was 
very  sensitive,  and  could  never  bear  tcr  think  of  going  to  live  in 
the  poor-house.  And  so  he  struggled  on,  manfully  and  heroically, 
when  oldeJ^earts  would  have  broken.  His  father,  whom  he  had 
loved,  was  dead ;  his  mother  was  dead  too  ;  and  amid  all  his  sor- 
row, which  would  have  crushed  some  hearts,  he  was  left  to  starve 
or  earn  his  bread — and  he  so  young  and  tender  !     Strong  agony 

VOL.  IV.  3*  AG 


58       A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOR  IN  LONDON. 

sometimes  makes  some  feeble,  while  it  strengthens  others.  Day 
after  day  this  poor  orphan  v/orked  with  almost  the  strength  of  a 
man,  and  earned  his  bread.  He  had  a  little  room  with  a  poor  bed 
in  one  corner,  which  a  poor  woman  had  rented  to  him  for  a  small 
smiQ,  and  he  bought  with  the  money  he  earned  some  bread,  and  he 
ate  it  in  his  room  alone,  and  drank  nothing  with  it  but  water. 

But  the  lad  was  destined  to  see  his  strength  fail  under  such  a 
heavy  trial.  Each  day  his  cheek  grew  paler,  and  his  body  more 
frail ;  but  he  did  not  despair,  though  in  his  little  room,  more  than 
one  whole  night,  did  he  keep  his  eyes  wide  open,  all  because  he 
could  not  sleep.  Day  by  day  his  strength  vanished,  and  finally  the 
man  for  whom  he  worked  told  him  he  need  not  come  any  more, 
for  he  could  not  work  hard  enough  to  suit  him.  He  had  saved  a 
few  shillings,  and  upon  these  he  lived.  Each  day  made  the  little 
sum  less,  until  not  a  penny  was  left.  He  had  become  white,  and 
sickly,  and  tremulous.  What  should  he  do  now  ?  He  was  too 
proud  to  go  to  the  poor-house,  and  he  would  not  beg  or  steal.  He 
tried  to  get  work,  but  could  not,  and  finally  the  noble  boy  gave  up 
in  despair,  and  that  heart,  which  was  like  a  hero's,  broke. 

The  woman  of  whom  he  had  hired  his  little  room  missed  him 
one  morning,  and  knocked  at  his  door.  There  was  no  answer,  and 
she  raised  the  latch,  and  pushed  open  the  door.  The  sight  before 
her  eyes  was  an  awful  one  ;  for  there,  upon  his  miserable  cot,  lay 
the  orphan  boy,  white  and  cold — and*  dead.  His  weary  heart  had 
gone  away  forever  from  the  sad  troubles  of  this  world.  The  face 
looked  happier  than  it  had  done  for  a  long  time ;  for  the  angel  of 
death  had  been  a  sweet  messenger  to  him. 

The  physician  said  that  there  was  no  food  in  his  stomach,  but 
he  hardly  thought  it  was  a  death  caused  by  starvation  alone, 
though  that  must  have  hastened  it ;  and  the  coroner's  jury  returned 
a  verdict  of  "  Died  by  visitation  of  God."  Yet  he  had  died  of 
starvation.  His  heart  had  broken  while  thinking  of  the  terrible 
prospect  before  him,  and  even  then  he  had  had  nothing  to  eat  for 
hours.  ^ 

The  ragged  schools  in  London  are  accomplishing  a  great  and 
good  work  for  the  poorer  classes.  I  am  sure  I  cannot  surmise 
why  such  a  name  was  ever  given  to  these  schools.     It  is  a  very 


A  GLAN^CE  AT  THE  POOR  IN  LONDON. 


59 


unfortunate  one,  I  think.  But  it  is  generally  conceded,  I  believe, 
that  there  is  not  much  in  a  name,  after  all ;  and  so  we  will  let 
that  pass.  These  ragged  schools,  as  they  are  called,  are  now  es- 
tablished in  almost  every  part  of  the  great  metropolis  where  the 
poor  and  the  degraded,  reside.  Ah,  what  a  bright  day  was  that 
for  London,  when  John  Pounds,  the  poor  shoemaker,  first  assem- 
bled that  little  band  of  ignorant  boys  at  his  house,  and  taught  them 
to  read,  and  pray,  and  become  good  citizens.     It  was  from  this 


JOHX    POUNDS    AND    HIS    PUPILS. 


John  Pounds,  a  poor,  obscure  man,  that  the  noble  institution  of  the 
ragged  school,  which  is  now  doing  so  much  good  in  London,  is 
due.  He,  while  working  at  his  last,  and  pounding  away  there  in 
his  little  shop,  on  his  lap-stone,  was  laying  the  foundation  of  one 
of  the  most  blessed  institutions  of  Christian  charity  that  the  world 
ever  knew.     That  was  pounding  to  some  purpose,  was  it  not  ? 

I  visited  one  of  these  ragged  schools,  while  in  London.  It  was 
held  in  one  of  the  very  worst  haunts  in  the  city,  and  from  time 
immemorial  it  has  had  this  reputation.  In  former  days  it  was 
much  more  abandoned  than  it  is  at  present ;  and  before  London  was 
lighted  with  gas,  it  was  not  safe  to  pass  that  way  at  all,  unarmed, 
in  the  night.     So  late  as  the  time  when  the  ragged  school  was 


60       A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOR  IN  LONDON. 

first  established  in  tliis  region,  a  great  majority  of  the  inhabitants 
got  their  living  by  petty  robberies  and  picking  pockets.  I  saw, 
when  I  approached  the  door,  what  sort  of  people  lived  in  that 
neighborhood.  Hanging  around  the  building,  apparently  with  no 
other  object  than  to  beg  or  steal,  or  while  away  an  idle  hour,  were 
a  score  or  two  of  the  most  abandoned  creatures,  in  appearance, 
that  I  ever  saw,  and  several  policemen  were  on  duty  in  and  about 
the  room  where  the  school  was  held.  As  I  entered  the  door,  I 
heard  loud  talking,  and  what  appeared  to  be  angry  disputing ;  and 
I  found  that  it  was  perfectly  impossible  to  maintain  such  order 
among  these  scholars  as  we  look  for  in  our  Sunday-schools.  The 
first  objects  that  met  my  eye,  as  I  went  in,  were  placards,  posted  up 
in  different  parts  of  the  room,  each  bearing  some  precious  sentence 
from  the  Bible.  These  were  some  of  the  sentences  :  "  The  eyes  of 
the  Lord  are  in  every  place."  "  Love  one  another."  "  Be  sure 
your  sin  will  find  you  out."  "  Look  unto  me,  and  be  ye  saved." 
"  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners."  I  was  told 
that  there  were  almost  a  thousand  different  scholars  who  came  to 
this  school,  during  a  week's  time,  thoiigli  the  average  attendance 
was  not  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  in  a  day.  All  denomi- 
nations of  Christians  unite  here  in  giving  instruction.  The  object 
of  the  teachers  is  not  to  make  Episcopalians,  or  Methodists,  or  Bap- 
tists or  Presbyterians,  of  the  scholars,  but,  if  possible,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  to  lead  them  from  sin  and  moral  pollution  to  virtue  and 
holiness — from  death  to  life.  It  deeply  aftected  me,  to  see  these 
self-denying  Christians  thus  mingling  with  the  sons  and  daughters 
of  vice,  and  earnestly  endeavoring  to  do  them  good.  I  could  not 
help  thinking  that  they  were  a  thousand  times  more  worthy  of 
the  honor  and  applause  of  the  world,  than  the  men  who  have  hewed 
their  way  to  fame  on  the  battle-field,  through  heaps  of  human 
bodies.  God  bless  the  men  and  women  in  that  ragged  school  in 
Smithfield.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  poetry  and  romance  in  the 
idea  of  benevolence,  as  it  floats  about  in  the  brain  of  the  gi-eat 
mass  of  well-meaning  people.  But  there  is  not  much  of  either  in 
the  practical  working  of  the  machinery  of  benevolence,  in  such  a 
place  as  a  ragged  school.  Here  one,  to  be  useful,  must  make  him- 
self familiar  with  the  deepest  shades  of  vice,  with  filth,  rags,  and  a 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOR  IN  LONDON.       61 

whole  menagerie  of  loathsome  insects.  Very  earthly  specimens  of 
humanity  must  they  be,  who  are  so  coated  with  earth,  that  one 
must  first  put  them  through  the  ordeal  of  the  wash-tub  and  scrub- 
bing-brush, to  satisfy  himself  that  they  belong  to  the  human  race. 
And  if  this  process  is  necessary  to  get  at  the  bochj^  what  must  it 
require  to  reach  the  soul  ? 

The  superintendent  of  the  school  I  found  to  be  a  cheerful,  hope- 
ful man,  accustomed  to  look  on  the  sunny  side  of  things.  While 
I  was  in  the  school,  a  gang  of  boys,  tolerably  well  dressed,  answer- 
ing to  the  description  of  that  class  of  mankind  sometimes  denomi- 
nated rowdy  in  New  York,  bolted  into  the  room,  smoking  bad 
segars,  singing  snatches  of  vulgar  airs,*  and  spicing  their  whole 
performance  with  loud  and  frequent  oaths.  Of  course  the  exercises 
of  the  school  were  greatly  disturbed,  and  for  a  time,  until  the  in- 
truders could  be  expelled,  were  entirely  suspended. 

"  And  what  does  all  this  mean  ?"  I  asked  of  the  superintendent. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  smiling,  "  this  is  one  of  the  shades  in  the  picture. 
There  would  be  no  beauty,  no  meaning  in  it,  if  it  were  all  light,  and 
no  shadow." 

'•  But  who  are  these  fellows,  and  how  came  they  here  ?" 

"  Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  these  are  some  of  our  own  gradu- 
ates, and  they  have  made  us  a  visit  to-day,  to  show  us  how  fast 
they  are  getting  to  be  men." 

"  The  ungrateful  wretches  I" 

"  Ungrateful  you  may  well  say  ;  but  they  are  not  so  depraved  as 
you  think  them,  and  they  had  not  a  particle  of  malice  in  their 
hearts  when  they  behaved  in  such  an  unbecoming  manner." 

I  expressed  some  wonder,  perhaps  some  doubt,  at  what  the  good 
superintendent  said,  and  he  explained. 

"  I  know  every  one  of  these  lads,"  said  he.  "  When  they  left 
the  school,  we  found  places  for  them — good  places  we  supposed 
them  to  be — and  they  were  orderly  and  well-behaved  at  that  time. 
They  are  now,  very  likely,  in  the  main,  honest  and  faithful  to  their 
employers.  But  they  are  under  no  restraint  on  the  Sabbath. 
This  sacred  season  is  a  holiday  to  them.  It  affords  them  the  only 
time  they  have  during  the  week  for  recreation,  and  so  they  employ 
it  as  a  day  of  merriment.     They  did  not  think  of  the  mischief 


62       A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOE  IN  LONDON. 


they  were  doing,  wlien  they  came  into  our  school.  They  felt  as 
other  lads  feel  at  the  age  of  fifteen  and  sixteen,  as  if  they  are 
men  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  and  they  wanted  to  come  here,  and 
show  off.  Every  one  of  them  was  glad  to  see  us,  and  thought  we 
should  be  glad  to  see  them." 

I  shook  my  head,  and  intimated  my  belief  that  they  took  an 
odd  way  to  show  their  kind  feelings  towards  the  teachers  who 
had  done  so  much  for  them,  and  to  whom  they  were  indebted, 
indeed,  for  the  means  of  getting  an  honest  living,  instead  of  beg- 
ging and  stealing  as  they  had  done. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  good-natured  superintendent.  "  I  don't 
pretend  to  justify  their  conduct.  It  was  certainly  in  very  bad 
taste.  But  I  insist  that  their  motive  was  not  as  bad  as  it  seemed. 
Why,  didn't  you  see  how  soon  they  all  became  calm,  and  how 
quietly  they  retreated,  as  soon  as  I  said  a  dozen  words  to  them  ?  I 
used  no  force  with  them.  I  did  not  allow  the  police  to  use  vio- 
lence with  them.  I  appealed  to  their  sense  of  propriety,  and  told 
them  how  sorry  it  made  me,  and  all  the  teachers,  to  see  the 
children  we  had  once  had  under  our  care  behave  so  rudely  and 
recklessly.  And  they  were  all  ashamed  of  themselves.  They  will 
never  show  their  faces  here  again  ;  or  if  they  do  come,  they  will 
entertain  us  no  more  with  such  manhj  exhibitions  as  we  have  had 
here  to-day,  depend  upon  it." 

"  But  pray,  sir,"  I  asked,  "  does  not  such  a  scene  as  this  give 
occasion  to  the  enemies  of  your  movement  to  doubt  the  utility 
of  your  labors  ?" 

"  Yes,  unquestionably  it  gives  them  an  occasion  for  such  doubt, 
though  not,  as  any  candid  person  will  allow,  any  just  fause  for  it. 
For,  what  if  these  boys,  a  dozen  of  them,  or  less,  turn  out  badly  ? 
They  certainly  cannot  be  ivorse  than  they  were  before  we  found 
them.  And  let  those  who  are  disposed  to  look  upon  such  ex- 
amples as  these,  look  also  at  the  other  side  of  the  picture.  Let 
them  note  well  the  hundreds,  yes,  hundreds  of  boys  and  girls  who 
have  been  elevated  from  the  very  dregs  of  society  to  honest,  intel- 
ligent, church-going,  exemplary,  pious  men  and  women,  fit  to 
honor  the  stations  they  filled  in  life.  Let  those  who  wish  us 
and  our  enterprise  ill,  look  at  these  facts,  carefully  and  honestly, 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOE  IN  LONDON.       63 

before  they  decide  upon  the  results  of  the  ]-agg*ed  school  enter- 
prise." 

In  the  evening-,  another  session  of  the  school  was  held.  I  found 
a  large  number  of  pupils  present.  At  this  time  I  had  the  privi- 
lege of  addressing  the  pupils  for  half  an  hour,  and  I  must  give  them 
the  credit  of  listening  to  me  with  as  much  attention  as  any  school 
I  ever  addressed  in  my  life. 

After  the  exercises  of  the  evening  were  closed,  those  boys  and 
men — for  there  are  adults  as  well  as  children  connected  with  the 
school — who  had  no  other  place  to  sleep,  repaired  to  the  dormi- 
tory under  the  school-room,  where  there  are  accommodations  for 
one  hundred  and  sixty  lodgers.  The  accommodations,  to  be  sure, 
are  rather  poor,  but  they  are  much  better  than  these  destitute 
people  would  otherwise  have.  They  have  no  home,  and  not  a 
penny  in  their  pockets  ;  and  unless  they  were  provided  for  by 
these  good  Samaritans,  they  would  be  obliged  to  sleep  in  the 
oj^en  air,  or  perhaps  in  some  sewer,  if  it  ha2:»pened  to  be  low 
tide.  The  beds  in  this  dormitory — if  beds  they  can  be  called — 
are  little  more  than  allotted  places,  of  pretty  small  area,  on  the 
floor,  provided  simply  with  a  blanket  and  the  means  of  elevating 
the  head  a  little.  One  penny  loaf,  with  sufficient  water,  is  allowed 
each  person.  After  the  frugal  supper,  which  I  presume  most  of 
the  lodgei's  ate  with  as  keen  a  relish  as  you  have  at  your  own 
table,  the  manager  of  the  lodging  establishment  conducted  evening 
worship,  and  the  lights  were  put  out,  with  the  exception  of  a  sin- 
gle one  over  the  desk. 

To  entitle  themselves  to  receive  accommodations  in  the  lodging 
department,  the  pupils  must  attend  the  school,  and  must  show  that 
they  have  not  the  means  of  getting  lodging  elsewhere.  Unless 
some  such  restrictions  as  these  were  insisted  on,  many  indolent 
persons  would  abuse  this  charity.  Besides,  the  keepers  of  the 
penny  lodging  establishments — for  they  have  places  in  London, 
such  as  they  are,  where  one  may  be  lodged  for  a  penny,  or  two 
cents — would  quarrel  with  the  ragged  school  enterprise,  and  do  it 
immense  mischief. 

There  are  in  London,  at  the  present  time,  some  one  hundred 
and  forty  ragged  schools,  and   it  is  impossible  to  estimate  the 


64 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  POOR  IN  LONDON. 


amount  of  good  they  are  doing  to  tlie  lower  classes.  The  boys  and 
girls,  even,  who  receive  instruction  in  these  schools,  are  often  the 
means  of  immense  benefit  to  their  former  companions.     I  heard 


AN    AUVi-NiCRE    AVITH    PICKPOCKKTS. 


an  anecdote  illustrating  this  fact,  while  I  was  in  London,  which  I 
must  repeat  to  you.  A  boy,  once  a  degraded  outcast  from  so- 
ciety, had  attended  a  ragged  school  for  some  two  years,  and  had 
become  a  virtuous  and  apparently  pious  young  man.  One  Sun- 
day, on  his  way  to  the  school,  he  was  met  by  half  a  dozen  reck- 
less boys,  some  of  whom  he  had  known  before,  and  with  whom 
he  had  roamed  about  the  streets,  in  pursuit  of  guilty  adventures. 


BENEVOLENCE.  65 


These  boys,  who,  at  the  time  they  met  the  representative  of  the 
ragged  school,  were  rife  for  picking  pockets,  or  any  other  mis- 
chief that  promised  gain  or  sport,  determined  they  would  have 
some  fun  with  their  former  associate.  So  they  stopped  him,  and 
began  to  laugh  at  him  and  ridicule  him,  in  their  usual  coarse  man- 
ner, for  the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  his  habits.  The 
good-natured  boy,  instead  of  hurrying  away  from  these  pickpockets, 
stopped  a  moment  to  speak  with  them.  He  did  not  get  angry  at 
their  taunts;  nor  did  they  succeed  in  making  him  at  all  ashamed 
that  he  w^as  an  inmate  of  the  ragged  school.  After  listening 
patiently  to  all  their  ridicule  and  abuse,  he  spoke  kindly  to  them, 
remonstrated  with  them  respecting  their  evil  course, '  and  urged 
them  to  go  with  him  to  the  school.  At  first,  they  only  made  fun 
of  the  invitation.  But  when  they  saw  how  much  in  earnest  their 
former  companion  was,  they  made  up  their  minds  they  would  go, 
"just  to  see  what  kind  of  doings  they  had  in  them  ragged  schools." 
They  went,  and  what  is  more,  every  one  of  them  became  a  per- 
manent attendant  of  the  school,  and  never  disgraced  it. 

Oh  wdiat  blessings,  my  dear  reader,  can  w^e  all  be  to  our  race, 
if  w^e  only  have  the  heart  to  feel  for  our  fellow-men,  and  set  our- 
selves resolutely  to  work  to  be  useful  to  them. 


BEISTEVOLENCE. 


The  principle  of  benevolence  comes  from  God.  It  shines  in 
the  sun  ;  drops  in  the  refreshing  sliow^ers  ;  whispers  in  the  gentle 
breeze  ;  sparkles  on  the  diadem  of  night ;  crowns  the  year  with 
goodness,  and  our  lives  with  blessings.  It  is  so  in  man,  in  hind^ 
but  difi"ers  in  degree.  It  woidd  relieve  all,  heal  all,  save  all,  bless 
all  forever.  Wherever  there  is  sorrow,  there  it  would  be  present 
with  its  balm  ;  where  there  is  suffering,  there  it  sheds  its  benign 
and  healing  influence.  It  is  good-will  to  all ;  and  all  may  feel  its 
gracious  and  tender  emotions. 


66 


THE  TWO  SONGSTERS. 


THE  TWO  SONGSTERS. 


BY    ANNE    T.    WILBUR. 


HERE  is,  in  the  southern  part  of  Maryland,  a  v^iy 
pleasant   place  called   Woodbury,   a  plantation 
A  ^t^^r  ^^^^  in  possession  of  the  Leigh   family,  and  by 

^'^"*^  them   adorned  with  all  the  beauty  which  wealth 

borrow  from  Nature  and  Art.  Over  the  white  dwell- 
lad  been  trained  a  multiflora,  whose  rich  and  fragrant 
clusters  almost  concealed  it  from  view,  and  the  lawn  before 
the  house  was  surrounded  with  locusts,  whose  white  blossoms  fell  on 
its  green  carpet  in  a  snowy  shower.  In  their  branches  the  birds  made 
their  nesis,  and  dwelt  undisturbed.  By  day,  the  notes  of  the  quail 
were  heard  incessantly  among  them,  and  when  the  evening  twilight 
came,  and  the  quail  was  silent,  the  whip-i)oor-will  commenced  his 
mournful  song,  and  continued  it  without  cessation  until  morning. 
One  into  whose  ear  and  heart  these  melodies  sank  not  so  deeply  as 
the  music  of  well-remembered  voices,  thus  commemorated  them  : 

A  bird  in  the  locust-tree  all  day  long 

Chants  in  my  ear  the  self-same  song ; 

Ever  repeating  from  morn  till  night, 

The  name  of  some  being  he  calls  "Bob  White." 

And  w^hat  is  Bob  White,  little  bird,  to  thee, 

That  his  name  should  thus  echo  from  tree  to  tree  ? 

Was  he  a  hero  of  olden  time, 

Whose  deeds  were  forgotten  by  bards  sublime  ? 

Was  he  a  "  friar  of  orders  gray," 

Shut  up  in  a  cloister  night  and  day? 

Or  a  huntsman  bold,  with  his  hounds  and  horn, 

Away  to  the  chase  at  the  peep  of  dawn  ? 


THE  TWO  SONGSTEES.  67 


Was  he  a  minstrel  of  low  degree, 
Loving  a  lady  of  dignity? 
Or  a  noble  knight,  with  an  armed  band, 
Bound  for  the  wars  of  the  Holy  Land? 

Was  he  a  pirate  who  roamed  o'er  the  sea, 
And  buried  his  booty  beneath  yon  tree  ? 
But  the  plaintive  note  of  thine  altered  song 
Tells  me  I'm  doing  thy  friend  much  wrong. 

When  the  last  fiiint  ray  of  the  setting  sun 

Tells  that  the  day  is  nearly  done ; 

When  the  breeze  dies  away  and  the  leaves  are  still. 

You  may  hear  the  song  of  the  Whip-poor-Will. 

And  who  is  Will,  my  poor  little  bird? 
For  his  other  name  I  have  never  heard ; 
And  why,  as  you  seem  to  pity  him  so. 
Can  you  wish  me  to  strike  so  cruel  a  blow? 

Say,  is  he  brother  to  that  Bob  White 
Who  sings  in  the  locust  from  morn  till  night  ? 
And  what  has  he  done  that  thy  plaintive  hymn 
Ne'er  swells  on  the  ear  till  the  twilight  dim? 

Hast  thou  lost,  poor  Willie,  thy  worldly  wealth 
Of  fame  or  fortune,  of  friends  or  health? 
Has  thy  mate  deserted  her  leafy  home. 
Afar  in  some  sunnier  clime  to  roam  ? 

Thou  art  poor  indeed,  if  the  voice  of  love 
Has  ceased  to  resound  in  the  silent  grove ; 
And  lone  is  the  greenest  and  sunniest  spot. 
Where  the  tones  of  affection  are  echoing  not. 

Then  utter  thy  song  to  the  forest  trees. 
And  fling  its  notes  on  the  evening  breeze ; 
Ever  warbling  thy  mournful  tune 
In  the  mellow  rays  of  the  silvery  moon. 

For  what  to  the  lonely  are  sunshine  and  flowers. 
Or  the  song  of  the  birds  in  summer  hours ; 
The  glory  and  beauty  of  Nature  and  Art 
To  the  wealth  of  a  loving  and  trusting  heart? 


68 


A  FIGHT  WITH  A  TIGER. 


A  FIGHT  WITH  A  TIGER. 


One  of  the  most  desperate  encounters  with  a  wild  beast  which 
I  have  heard  or  read  of  for  many  a  day,  took  place  not  long 
since  in  Texas.  The  parties  in  the  struggle,  besides  the  tiger,  were 
Mr.  Absolem  Williams  and  his  wife.  The  former  was  more  than 
sixty  years  of  age.     I  found  the  story  in  the  Galveston  News. 

The  tiger  was  first  discovered  on  the  premises  of  Mj-.  James 
Drake,  who  lives  in  the  north  portion  of  Jefferson  County,  where 
it  entered  his  enclosure,  attacked  his  horses,  and  killed  one,  besides 
wounding  two  others.  While  the  tiger  was  committing  its  depre- 
dations, it  w^as  discovered  by  Francis  Drake,  son  of  the  proprietor 
of  the  premises,  who  fired  a  shot  gun  at  it,  wounding  it  in  the 
side,  but  not  dangerously,  when  it  made  its  escape.  The  next  day, 
while  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Williams  were  sitting  in  their  house,  (the  rest 
of  the  family  being  absent,)  they  were  startled  by  a  strange  noise 
in  the  yard,  in  front  of  their  house.  Mr.  Williams,  on  going  out, 
discovered  his  dog  engaged  with  a  tiger,  when  he  seized  an  ox- 
yoke  and  aimed  a  blow  at  the  "  varmint,"  but,  missing  it,  struck 


A  FIGHT  WITH  A  TIGER.  69 

iiis  dog.  The  dog  then  got  away  from  the  tiger,  and  retreated. 
In  an  instant  the  tiger  sprung  on  Mr.  Williams,  and,  seizing  him 
by  the  hand,  jerked  him  about  twenty  feet.  The  old  gentleman, 
finding  himself  in  the  too  powerful  grasp  of  the  wild  animal,  cour- 
ageously determined  to  give  it  the  best  "  rough  and  tumble  fight" 
in  his  power,  and,  having  no  weapons  within  reach,  he  seized  the 
tiger  by  the  throat  with  his  other  hand,  and  throwing  his  whole 
strength  forward,  crushed  the  tiger  to  the  ground,  both  falling 
side  by  side.  At  this  time  Mrs.  Williams  came  to  the  rescue  with 
a  gun,  which  she  snapped  at  the  tiger,  but,  there  being  no  priming 
in  the  pan,  it  did  not  go  off.  Mr.  Williams  then,  with  one  arm 
round  the  tiger's  body,  and  grasping  its  throat  with  his  other 
hand,  by  an  effort,  disengaged  himself.  The  tiger,  discovering  a 
new  adversary  in  the  person  of  Mrs.  W^illiams,  jumped  at  her,  and 
attempted  to  grasp  her  head  within  its  jaws,  while  it  struck  and 
lacerated  her  breast  with  its  fore-paws.  She  tried  to  avoid  the 
monster,  but  was  felled  to  the  ground. 

In  the  meantime  Mr.  Williams  had  seized  the  ox-yoke  again, 
and,  giving  the  tiger  a  tremendous  blow,  caused  it  to  leave  Mrs. 
Williams,  when  it  leaped  into  the  house  and  got  under  the  bed. 
The  door  was  immediately  closed,  and  the  monster  secured.  Mr. 
Williams  was  exhausted  from  the  effects  of  his  wounds,  from  which 
the  blood  flowed  in  streams ;  but  not  so  his  better  half.  When 
she  saw  their  mutual  foe  thus  attempt  to  take  possession  of  their 
house,  she  determined  to  finish  the  battle,  and,  notwithstanding  the 
severity  of  her  wounds,  her  dress  almost  entirely  torn  from  her  per- 
son, and  covered  with  blood,  she  deliberately  took  the  gun,  and, 
shaking  some  powder  from  the  barrel  into  the  pan,  placed  the 
muzzle  between  one  of  the  openings  which  the  logs  of  the  house 
afforded,  and  fired  with  steady  and  deadly  aim.  The  tiger  was 
killed.  When  subsequently  measured,  it  was  found  to  be  twelve 
feet  from  the  tip  of  its  tail  to  its  nose. 

During  all  the  time  the  fight  was  going  on,  no  one  but  those 
engaged  in  it  were  within  hearing.  Mr.  Williams'  nearest  neigh- 
bor lives  three  miles  off.  However,  as  Mrs.  Williams  was  washing 
the  blood  from  her  person,  a  neighbor  came  riding  by,  and,  alarmed 
at  her  appearance,  inquired  the  cause. 


70 


MAY  DAY. 


MAY  DAY. 


IT  Day  is  almost  always  bright  in  a  child's 
memoiy.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  child  whose 
whole  life  has  been  passed  in  a  crowded  city, 
•e  this  jubilee  of  spring  is  but  little  cared  for.  I  do 
>peak  of  the  child  who  knows  only  the  Gothamites' 
3  af  celebrating  the  first  of  May,  as  the  great  house- 
moving  day.  But  she  who  has  been  brought  up  from  very  infancy 
with  the  birds  and  flowers,  who  hails  their  awakening  from  win- 
ter's sleep  with  ever  new  delight,  has  many  links  to  bind  this  day 
in  her  memory,  to  make  it  of  all  other  gala  days,  the  nearest  and 
dearest  to  her  heart.  I  w(juld  not  be  willing  to  lose  a  single  such 
bright  remembrancer  of  my  childhood — and  more  especially  is 
there  one  May  Day  which  I  hope  never  to  forget — a  day  some- 
what saddened  by  mournful  associations,  yet  nevertheless  sweet  to 
think  of. 

I  was  eleven  years  old.  I  was  then  living  in  the  new  growing 
city  which  is  still  my  home.  But  nature  is  almost  as  lavish  of 
her  favors  here  as  in  the  country.  There  is  withal  an  air  of  re- 
finement here,  characterizing  her,  which  one  can  rarely  find  in  our 
more  rural  districts.  Seldom  within  the  pale  of  a  common  coun- 
cil's jurisdiction,  can  you  see  so  many  groves,  and  blooming  gar- 
dens, and  tasteful  law^ns,  as  may  be  found  nigh  the  very  main 
street  of  this  my  native  city. 

A  week  before  the  happy  May  Day  of  which  I  now  speak,  a 
little  number  of  girls  were  in  pleasant  gathering  around  a  horse- 
chestnut,  on  our  seminary  la\vn.  How  busy  their  tongues  were  ! 
Two  or  three,  a  trifle  taller  than  the  rest,  seemed  to  take  the  lead 
in  conversation.  Others,  more  silent,  were  yet  as  deeply  inter- 
ested— and  one  I  remember,  "  Our  Lizzie,"  to  me  the  fairest  of 


MAY    DAY.  71 


the  group,  was  leaning  against  the  tree  with  myself,  saying  not  a 
word,  but  none  the  less  eagerly  listening.  All  might  well  be  at- 
tentive, and  many  a  girlish  heart  among  that  little  number  might 
well  flutter  Avithin  her,  for  the  query  in  discussion  was — "  Who 
shall  be  our  May  Queen  ?"  A  very  difficult  question  to  decide, 
when  almost  each  one  might  have  a  different  choice  !  Lots  were 
proposed  to  settle  the  puzzling  point.  She  who  should  draw  the 
longest  blade  of  grass,  was  to  be  invested  with  regal  honor,  and 
Lizzie,  my  near  playmate,  was  the  successful  drawer. 

Ah,  Lizzie  !  who  had  ever  thought  of  you  as  queen  ?  for  school- 
girls have  often  strange  fancies  about  such  things.  We  had  im- 
agined just  before,  that  our  queen  must  be  tall  and  dignified,  must 
seem  born  to  rule  by  her  very  mien.  Yet  such  ideas  were  forgot- 
ten, now  that  the  choice  was  made,  and  every  eye  was  turned  upon 
the  blushing  Lizzie.  Immediately  we  all  wondered  she  had  not 
been  the  choice  of  all.  Had  we  yet  to  learn  that  love,  and  gen- 
tleness, and  goodness  will  sway,  where  external  graces  alone  cannot 
hold  influence  ?  My  arm  was  round  Lizzie's  waist.  I  could  feel 
her  heart  throb  ;  yet  how  sweetly  and  humbly  she  accepted  the 
honor ! 

From  that  time  till  May  Day,  there  was  busy  life  at  home  and 
in  school,  in  preparation  for  the  coming  enjoyment.  I  am  afraid 
our  lessons  suffered  a  little,  then.  We  did  surely  try  to  study,  and 
our  teachers,  always  kind,  were  unusually  indulgent ;  but  was  it  not 
very  hard  to  keep  one's  mind  on  books,  at  such  a  time  ?  Per- 
chance, while  we  were  bending  over  our  pleasant  Goldsmith, 
where  the  rough  historical  is  made  all  smooth  by  hajDpy  talent, 
in  place  of  ids  kings  and  queens,  living  only  in  the  past,  we  saw 
rather  in  the  future,  our  own  dear  Lizzie,  worthier  of  her  crown 
and  throne  than  was  even  good  Queen  Bess.  There  was  so  much 
more  real  life  just  before  us,  than  in  those  stolid  forms  of  the 
past !  We  cared  so  much  more  for  our  even  imaginary  thrones 
and  powers,  than  for  all  the  historian's  truth  !  And  if,  while  in 
the  midst  of  recitation,  we  heard  a  bird's  song  from  the  open 
window,  how  many  glances  were  interchanged,  as  if  that  song  were 
a  forward  echo  of  our  next  May  carol !  Such  was  the  effect  which 
the  coming  May  Day  produced  upon  us  who  were  to  be  but  lesser 


72  MAY  DAY. 


actresses  in  the  grand  gala.  How  was  it  with  her  who  was  to 
rule  the  day  ?  Ah,  Lizzie  was  as  quiet,  and  gentle,  and  unas- 
suming as  ever,  but  I  wonder  if  she  did  not  also  find  an  expe- 
rience in  her  school-life,  in  this  short  preparatory  week,  that  there 
is  no  royal  road  to  knowledge. 

Lizzie  was  among  the  youngest  of  our  number,  the  pet  and  the 
loved  of  all.  Some  of  her  older  playmates,  perhaps,  could  hardly 
have  regarded  one  so  young,  so  childlike,  as  their  queen,  in  the 
common  sense  of  the  term.  They  could  look  upon  her,  rather  as 
those  old  noble  British  stocks,  of  the  former  generation,  looked 
upon  their  new  and  youthful  monarch  Victoria — rather  with  pater- 
nal feelings,  as  seeing  one  lifted  up  for  them  to  love,  one  calling 
forth  emotions  of  strong  loyal  tenderness,  while  authority  might 
rather  be  vested  in  themselves.  Would  not  affection  prove  ever  the 
pleasantest  sceptre  for  a  queen  to  hold  ?  To  love  and  to  be  loved 
rather  than  to  reign  ;  or,  if  reigning,  to  have  her  throne  chiefly 
in  each  subject's  heart  ? 

All  the  more  important  preparations  for  May  Day  were  made 
by  our  elder  playmates,  we  younger  ones,  of  course,  readily  con- 
curring. But  it  was  pleasant  for  each  to  feel  that  she  had  a  hand 
in  the  general  helping.  Lizzie  had  no  kind  mother  to  advise  her, 
and  to  share  in  her  coming  pleasure,  for  that  mother  slept  in  a 
grave  far  down  in  the  sunny  South.  Lizzie's  father,  immediately 
after  the  death  of  his  wife,  had  brought  his  little  daughter  hither, 
where  she  found,  with  her  aunt,  a  second  home.  Lizzie  soon  be- 
came the  darling  of  her  aunt's  whole  household.  Was  she  not, 
even  before  her  coronation,  a  little  queen  in  the  hearts  of  all  who 
knew  her  ?  She  was  a  delicate  child,  with  sunny,  brown  eyes, 
and  auburn  curls,  and  a  clear,  blue-veined  complexion.  As  she 
now  rises  in  my  memory,  she  was  the  most  beautiful  being  I  have 
ever  seen.     Why  do  often  the  most  beautiful  so  early  die  ? 

May  Day  came.  When  we  rose,  the  sky  was  dark  and  lower- 
ing, nor  was  there  during  the  early  morning  a  single  bright  speck 
in  the  clouds  to  give  us  hope  of  better  things.  A  slight  shower 
fell,  and  if  it  continued,  there  was  no  alternative  save  to  enjoy 
our  first  of  May,  not  according  to  the  calendar,  but  according  as 
the  sun  might  show  himself.     Even  a  day's  postponement  would 


MAY  DAY.  73 


have  been  a  sad  disappointment  to  us  all.  But  about  ten  o'clock, 
the  sun  came  out  so  bi-ightly  !  And  his  beams  brought  many 
smiles  on  youthful  faces,  for  it  was  not  yet  too  late  for  our  holi- 
day. In  a  little  while  a  goodly  number  were  assembled  at  Cleve- 
land Place,  the  residence  of  Lizzie's  aunt. 

Perhaps  I  can  give  you  a  picture  of  Cleveland  Place,  as  it  was 
then  and  is  now,  for  that  May  Day  passed  not  many  years  ago. 
The  grove  was  a  large  one,  mostly  of  tulip  trees  and  magnolias, 
with  a  few  old  elms  and  a  few  varieties  of  the  lighter  maple. 
There  was  a  front  entrance,  guarded  by  high  arched  gates,  from 
which  were  two  semi-circular  avenues,  each  terminating  at  the  great 
stone  house.  You  could  not  see  this  house  at  the  entrance,  it  was 
so  hidden  by  trees  and  by  the  surrounding  vines  and  shrubs.  It 
was  of  an  ancient  make,  built  by  an  old  countryman,  but  somewhat 
modernized  here  and  there  by  its  present  owner.  It  was  just  such 
a  sombre  structure  as  befitted  those  noble  trees,  its  sentinels  !  Attach- 
ed to  one  side  of  the  grove,  with  only  a  hedge  between,  was  a  garden 
blooming  with  May  flowers.  Early  roses,  mignonette,  violets,  japoni- 
cas,  sent  up  their  sweet  incense  of  fragrance  and  beauty,  at  the 
coronation  of  our  fair  young  queen. 

Just  as  the  dial's  shadow  was  at  twelve,  a  procession  came  slowly 
down  the  stone  steps  and  passed  over  the  smooth,  gTassy  carpet, 
as  gi'een  as  nature  had  ever  spread,  to  the  uj^per  end  of  the  grove, 
where  a  bower  throne  had  been  built.  Lizzie,  attired  in  white, 
headed  the  procession.  How  very  pale  she  was,  for  it  was  an 
eventful  day  to  her  !  I  remember  being  half  frightened  when 
placing  the  crown  upon  her  head  (for  that  honor  was  assigned  me) 
to  see  her  colorless  cheek.  Four  small  children  had  gone  before, 
and  strewn  flowers  in  her  path  ;  and  when  she  rose  from  the 
little  stool  on  which  she  had  knelt  to  receive  the  May  wreath, 
with  the  flowers  above  and  beneath  her,  she  indeed  stood  "  herself 
the  fairest  flower  !" 

We  had  each  fairly  held  our  breath  during  the  coronation. 
There  was  something  almost  solemn  in  it  to  our  younger  minds. 
But  when  the  ceremony  was  finished,  what  a  merry  time  we  had  ! 
All  were  to  kiss  Lizzie's  hand,  but  we  oftener  made  the  mistake 
which  Dr.  Franklin  perpetrated  towards  the  royal  lady  of  France, 

VOL      IV.  4  AG 


74  CENSUS  OF  1850. 


in  kissing  her  cheek.  Then  there  was  a  feast  prepared  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  grove,  the  procession  was  again  formed,  and — but  you 
may  imagine  the  rest.  Meanwhile  music  was  not  wanting  to  make 
our  hearts  gladder  yet.  Sweet  human  voices  joined  with  the  birds 
in  a  joyous  May  carol. 

I  cannot  say  that  this  May  Day  was  "  too  happy  to  last,"  for 
that,  methinks,  is  a  false  proverb.  The  happiest  things  are  surely 
the  7nost  lasting.  Is  a  Saviour's  love,  which  makes  us  within  hap- 
pier than  all  else  besides,  a  transient  flame  ?  But  this  May  Day 
was  very  soon  spent,  and  when  night  came,  I  trow  we  were  tired 
enough  to  sleep  and  dream  rare  things.  Ah,  what  did  Lizzie 
dream  of? 

Just  nine  months  from  then,  Lizzie  was  again  at  the  head  of  a 
procession  ;  but  that  procession  was  slowly  winding  through  the 
cemetery  not  far  from  our  city.  She  was  still  dressed  in  white, 
but  hers  were  now  the  garments  of  the  grave.  Dear  Lizzie  ! 
Her  frail  body  was  there,  but  she  lifld  gone  to  a  sunnier  clime 
than  her  own  native  South — she  had  exchanged  that  withered 
crown  of  hers,  for  a  never-fading  one,  and  purer  robes  clothed  her 
now  sinless  spirit.. 

Reader,  were  you  ever  a  May  Queen  ?  No  matter  whether  you 
have  been  or  not.  But  oh,  may  you  so  live — so  honor  the  Saviour  in 
this  world — that  you,  like  Lizzie,  may  go  to  the  Paradise  of  God, 
and  be  clad  in  royal  robes  there  !  l. 


CENSUS  OF  1850. 


According  to  the  census,  the  whole  number  of  free  white  inhabit- 
ants in  the  United  States,  in  1850,  amounted  to  about  20,000,000. 
Of  this  number,  17,'736,'792  were  natives  of  the  soil,  and  2,210,828 
foreigners.  The  countries  from  which  we  have  received  the  larger 
portion  of  this  population  are  classified  as  follows:  Ireland,  961,- 
719  ;  Germany,  537,225  ;  England,  281,675  ;  British  America, 
147,700;  Scotland,  70,550;  France,  54,069;  Wales,  29,866;  all 
other  countries,  95,022. 


THE   BLUE   bird's   LAMENT. 


75 


THE  BLUE  BIED'S  LAMENT. 


A    FABLE,    WITH    A    MORAL. 


Upon  the  summit  of  an  elm,  on  a  hill  overlooking  a  farm-house, 
with  fruit-trees  and  garden,  were  sitting,  face  to  face,  a  blue  bird 
and  a  yellow  bird,  when  it  is  supposed  the  following  conversation 
took  place  : 

Cynea.  See  the  sun  nearly  touching  yon  far  mountain  summit, 
filling  with  his  level  beams  the  balmy  air,  so  as  to  make  all  space 
around  look  like  a  sea  of  gold.  Come,  let  us  fly  to  yon  farm-house, 
where  insects  swarm  on  all  the  leaves  of  the  orchard  and  garden, 
and  take  our  evening  repast  before  we  retire  for  the  night. 

Krocida.  Excuse  me,  my  dear  friend,  my  feelings  cannot  bend 
so  low  at  present  as  to  partake  of  material  good.  I  am  more 
pleased  to  remain  here  and  converse  with  you,  the  short  time  I 
have  at  this  hour  to  spend.  Your  remarks  on  surrounding  nature 
delight  me.     All  things  seem  filled  with  sweet  melancholy. 

C.  Yet  I  should  love  to  fly  with  you  to  yonder  farm-house ;  and 
since  the  motive  of  gratifying  the  gross  appetite  does  not  entice 
you,  let  me  suggest  that  we  may  do  a  work  of  great  benevolence, 
in  destroying  those  increasing  swarms  of  insects  which  are  so  in- 
jurious to  the  farmer's  fruit-trees  and  garden  vegetables. 


76  THE   BLUE   BIRD'S   LAMENT. 

K.  Benevolence,  indeed,  would  be  a  nobler  object ;  but  I  do  not 
think  man  worthy  of  being  benevolently  treated  by  the  family  of 
birds. 

C.  But  why,  my  friend,  do  you  look  so  down-cast,  as  if  sorrow 
had  taken  full  possession  of  your  heart ;  and.  especially  since  the 
mention  of  the  human  race  has  been  brought  up  ?  If  your  heart 
is  burdened  with  woes,  tell  me  the  tale  of  your  sorrows ;  I  will 
relinquish  my  intention  of  flying  to  the  f;irra-house,  and  prefer  to 
spend  this  sweet  evening  hour  in  conversation. 

K.  I  have  long  ago  forsaken  the  haunts  of  man.  I  dwell  alone, 
in  a  shady  retreat,  behind  the  summit  of  yon  distant  mountain. 
But  I  make  a  pilgrimage  every  evening  at  setting  sun  to  this  loved 
spot,  and  sit  silent  to  indulge  in  melancholy  remembrances. 

C.  You  excite  much  interest  in  my  heart  to  learn  your  sorrows. 

K.  I  will  give  you  a  brief  tale  of  my  woes.  My  father's  native 
nest  was  high  up  in  that  aspen-tree.  My  mother,  the  same  season, 
was  born  and  brought  up  in  the  flowing  branches  of  that  beautiful 
willow  which  you  see  at  the  foot  of  this  hill.  In  their  first  at- 
tempts to  fly,  they  often  met  on  the  boughs  of  this  lovely  elm, 
and  sat  awhile  to  rest  their  tender  wings.  Here  young  Love  first 
took  possession  of  their  innocent  hearts.  The  next  spring,  as  hus- 
band and  wife,  they  selected  these  sweet  shady  branches  as  a  home 
for  themselves,  and  all  that  was  dear  to  them  in  life.  Here,  where 
I  now  sit,  I  first  saw  the  light  of  heaven.  There  were  four  of  us, 
two  brothers  and  two  little  sisters.  Sweet  were  the  early  days  we 
spent  in  this  loved  nest.  My  mother  flew  away  to  the  farmer's 
fields,  to  gather  insects  for  our  food,  while  my  father  sat  on  a 
branch  above  us  to  guard  us,  and  sang  the  loved  songs  of  summer. 
When  our  mother  returned  we  lifted  our  tender  wings,  and  opened 
our  little  mouths  with  chattering  till  the  nest  trembled  with  the 
joyous  pulsations  of  our  young  hearts.  Thus  flew  the  golden 
hours,  till  one  day  my  mother  returned  from  the  field,  and  was 
busy  supplying  the  little  open  mouths  of  her  children,  each  with 
an  insect,  when  my  father — ah  !  I  shall  never  forget  the  sound — 
uttered  a  sudden  cry  which  pierced  our  hearts  through  and  through 
with  terror ;  and  as  he  uttered  the  cry,  he  darted  flutteiing  to- 
wards the  nest,  as  if  more  eftectually  to  alarm  our  mother,  but  it 


THE   BLUE   bird's   LAMENT.  77 

was  too  late.  She  had  just  time  to  raise  her  head.  The  dreadful 
explosion  shook  the  earth,  air  and  sky  !  Sulphurous  smoke  dark- 
ened our  leafy  home.  A  moment  passed.  My  poor  mother  lay 
bleeding  on  the  edge  of  her  nest !  The  warm  fluid  ran  freely 
down  where  we  sat.  Our  little  feet  and  naked  wings  were  stained 
with  the  tide  of  life  that  flowed  from  our  dying  parent !  At  this 
terrible  moment  I  looked  over  the  edge  of  the  nest,  and  I  saw  for 
tlie  first  time  what  they  call  a  man.  As  he  looked  up  at  me  with 
a  demoniacal  grin,  such  fiendishness  issued  from  his  eyes  that  1 
fainted,  and  fell  back  in  the  nest,  where  I  was  insensible  to  the 
sorrows  that  surrounded  me,  till  my  father  waked  me  next  morn- 
ing while  he  was  struggling  to  roll  my  mother's  dead  body  from 
the  nest.  I  learned  from  him,  that  the  murderer  of  my  mother, 
after  throwing  a  few  random  stones  at  the  nest,  had  passed  along 
with  his  gun  on  his  shoulder,  while  my  poor  father  had  sat  all  the 
night  upon  a  leafy  branch  uttering  mournful  notes  for  his  lost  mate. 
But  when  morning  came,  he  felt  that  something  must  be  done ; 
that  the  dead  body  must  be  removed,  and  food  provided  for  the 
motherless  children.  No  sooner  had  the  dead  body  fallen  from 
the  nest,  than  my  father  again  shrieked  out — an  animal  w^as 
devouring  the  remains  of  my  mother.  It  was  a  sorrowfid  sight. 
Thus  I  have  described  to  you  somewhat  particularly  the  intro- 
duction of  my  sorrows.  Time  would  fail  me  to  continue  them 
in  detail ;  and  all  these  woes  have  originated  from  the  wanton 
cruelty  of  that  wingless  biped  who  styles  himself  the  "  lord  of 
creation."  I  will  give  you  in  few  words  an  account  of  the  tragical 
end  of  the  remaining  members  of  my  unhappy  family.  After  the 
death  of  my  mother,  my  disconsolate  father  applied  himself  to  the 
tender  charge  of  providing  for  his  children.  But  only  a  few  days 
had  elapsed  when  a  second  explosion,  by  the  same  human  monster 
who  murdered  my  mother,  again  sent  horror  to  our  aflBicted  home. 
My  father  screamed  out  in  the  midst  of  the  sulphurous  smoke, 
and,  as  he  attempted  to  fly  away,  I  saw  one  limb  dangling,  for  a 
shot  had  broken  his  thigh  !  "When  night  came,  he  returned,  all 
swollen  and  in  great  pain.  He  sat  all  night  on  a  branch  near 
his  little  ones,  uttering  mournful  notes.  When  the  day  dawned, 
he  made  a  last  eftbrt  to  fly  in  search  of  food  to  supply  his  dear 


78  THE  BLUE  bird's   LAMENT. 

ones,  now  crying  with  hunger ;  his  stiffened  limbs  failed  him,  and 
he  fell  to  rise  no  more.  We,  in  the  nest,  sat  all  day  long,  crying 
for  food.  Night  came,  but  brought  not  the  return  of  father  or 
mother.  Deep  were  the  sorrows  of  that  night.  The  morning's 
first  light  showed  us  that  our  two  sisters  were  no  more.  The 
golden  edging  round  their  mouths  was  pale,  and  their  eyes  were 
faded  in  death.  My  brother  and  I  took  our  last  resolve  to  flee 
starvation  by  committing  ourselves  to  our  unpracticed  wings.  Poor 
little  brother,  at  the  outset  of  our  enterprise,  fell  and  broke  his 
neck  !  I  reached  yon  brier  thicket,  where  untold  sufferings  and 
dangers  awaited  me,  until  my  wings  grew  strong  enough  to  bear 
me  from  those  terrible  scenes  of  woe,  and  far  from  the  haunts  of 
man. 

C.  Yours  is  a  tale  of  sorrow,  indeed,  my  friend  ;  but  be  of  good 
cheer.  A  day  of  retribution  is  at  hand  for  your  persecutors.  The 
inferior  creation  was  made  for  the  use  of  man,  but  when  he 
abuses  it,  the  evil  will  sooner  or  later  fall  upon  his  own  head. 
A  law  of  subserviency  is  broken  by  man  by  his  cruelty  to  birds. 
A  nice  balance  was  originally  fixed  between  the  kingdom  of  in- 
sects and  that  of  birds.  l^)y  the  extermination  of  the  latter,  man 
promotes  in  the  former  a  formidable  increase.  Hear  him  mourn 
over  his  dying  young  peach-trees,  his  germinating  vegetables 
withering  as  soon  as  they  spring  from  the  earth,  his  grain  fields 
and  meadows  prematurely  fading.  Thus  rise  the  creeping  millions 
from  the  earth  to  revenge  our  extermination,  by  destroying  the 
hope  of  the  husbandman.  Then  see  him  ransack  books  for  "  the 
cause."  Hear  him  philosophize  :  "  It  was  not  formerly  so  ;  nature 
must  have  changed."  Wicked  man  !  your  cruelty  has  changed 
nature.  Restore  to  God's  most  beautiful,  most  innocent,  most  melo- 
dious, most  lovely  part  of  creation,  the  privileges,  the  kind  treat- 
ment which  is  their  due,  and  the  curse  will  be  removed.  Like 
messenger  angels,  they  will  sing  you  the  songs  of  peace,  and  restore 
to  you  manifold  blessings.  w.  r. 


JOHN   O'    GKOAT's   house. 


79 


JOHI^  0'  GKOAT'S  HOUSE. 


In  the  exti-eme  northern  part  of  Scotland,  almost  within  sight  of 
the  Orkney  Islands,  amid  some  of  the  boldest  cliffs  in  that  country 
so  celebrated  for  its  wild  and  picturesque  scenery,  formerly  stood 
John  o'  Groafs  House.  The  traveler,  perchance,  may  seek  in  vain, 
in  these  days,  for  any  vestiges  of  the  old  mansion.  But  it  stood 
there  once,  for  all  that.  The  circumstances  connected  with  its  erec- 
tion were  so  peculiar,  that  I  must  relate  them  to  you.  You  have 
no  doubt  often  heard  of  the  spot,  as  nothing  is  more  common  than 
for  an  Englishman,  in  speaking  of  the  whole  extent  of  the  island, 
from  north  to  south,  to  say,  "  from  John  o'  Groat's  to  Land's 
End."  The  house  itself  being  gone,  the  name  John  o'  Groafs 
House  is  transferred  to  the  cliffs  among  which  it  nestled  long  ago. 

The  legend — perhaps  it  ought  to  be  dignified  as  history — con- 
nected with  the  spot,  runs  something  as  follows : 

In  the  reign  of  James  IV.  of  Scotland,  three  brothers  of  the 
family  of  Groat^  came  over  from  Holland,  and  got  possession  of 
the  lands  on  this  coast,  each  having  an  equal  share.  In  process 
of  time,   their  families  having  increased,  the  original  est^e  was 


80  JOHN  O'   GROAT'S  HOUSE. 

held  by  eight  equal  proprietors  of  the  name  of  Groat.  Every 
year  they  were  accustomed  to  have  a  meeting,  to  celebrate  the  day 
on  which  the  landing  took  place.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  a 
violent  dispute  arose  among  them.  You  could  not  guess  what  a 
trivial  affair  it  was  about.  It  was  as  to  the  head  of  the  table — 
which  of  their  number  was  entitled  to  the  place.  This  matter 
threatened,  at  length,  to  break  up  the  colony.  John  o'  Groat,  how- 
ever, one  of  the  proprietors,  and  the  owner  of  the  ferry  where  the 
company  were  assembled,  prevailed  upon  them  to  separate  peace- 
ably that  time.  He  represented  to  them  the  unhappy  plight  in 
which  they  would  all  be  placed,  if  the  quarrel  went  on,  as  their 
neighbors  would  take  advantage  of  it  to  make  themselves  masters 
of  their  lands.  Before  the  day  came  round  for  the  next  meeting  of 
the  family,  John  built  a  house  in  the  form  of  an  octagon — with 
eight  sides  to  it — with  a  door  and  window  on  each  side,  and  a 
table  in  the  middle,  in  the  same  form.  When  they  met,  he  had 
each  one  enter  his  own  door,  and  sit  at  the  head  of  the  table,  he 
agreeing  to  take  the  last  seat.  By  this  simple  contrivance,  any 
dispute  as  to  rank  was  prevented,  and  the  former  harmony  and 
good  humor  of  the  family  were  restored. 

Whatever  credit  may  be  given  to  this  tale,  John  o'  Groat  was  a 
real  personage,  and  figures  in  history.  He  obtained  a  charter  of 
lands  from  the  Earl  of  Caithness  in  1496,  and  settled  on  this  spot. 
The  only  thing,  perhaps,  to  repay  the  tourists — and  their  name  is 
legion — who  visit  John  o'  Groat's  House,  is  the  bold  headland, 
with  its  deep  chasms,  and  detached  pinnacles  of  rock  projecting 
into  the  sea,  presenting  some  of  the  wildest  scenery  imaginable. 


Chateauneuf,  keeper  of  the  seals  of  Louis  XHI.  when  a  boy  of 
only  nine  years  old,  was  asked  many  questions  by  a  bishop,  and 
gave  correct  answers  to  them  all.  At  length,  the  prelate  said,  "  I 
will  give  you  an  orange  if  you  will  tell  me  where  God  is."  "  My 
lord,"  replied  the  boy,  "  I  will  give  you  two  oranges,  if  you  will  tell 
me  where  he  is  not." 


AUNT   BECKY. 


81 


AUNT  BECKY. 


■T.  (^:r^ 


ins  is  the  name  of  an  old  lady  still  living  in  one  of 
the  rural  towns  of  Connecticut,  whose  early  history 
is  ^vorth  preserving.  Her  father's  family  consisted 
of  herself  and  a  twin  sister,  and  six  sons.  A  little 
before  the  Revolutionary  war  commenced,  her  father  re- 
moved with  his  family  from  the  neighborhood  where  Aunt 
Becky  now  lives,  to  New  Stamford,  in  the  State  of  New  York. 
Here  he  erected  a  log  house,  and  commenced  clearing  a  portion  of 
the  farm,  and  tiying  to  raise  some  corn,  and  wheat,  and  potatoes, 
with  which  to  feed  his  family.  They  saw  rather  hard  times,  as 
provisions  were  scarce,  and  they  were  a  great  many  miles  from  any 
mill.  Sometimes  they  lived  on  parched  corn,  and  sometimes  on 
bean-porridge,  and  had  often  but  a  scanty  supply  of  these.  But 
though  times  were  hard  before  the  war  began,  they  were  much 
harder  afterwards.  Some  of  their  neighbors  were  tories,  who  were 
none  too  good  to  sell  their  birth-right  for  a  mess  of  pottage. 

One  spring,  while  the  people  were  scattered  in  the  woods,  tap- 
ping the  maples,  gathering  sap,  and  making  sugar,  the  Indians, 
instigated  by  the  tories,  rushed  upon  the  unsuspecting  inhabitants 
and  took  a  number  of  captives.  Among  the  rest,  they  took  Aunt 
Becky's  father  and  four  brothers.  She  and  her  sister,  then  ten  or 
eleven  years  old,  were  in  the  woods,  collecting  sap.  The  savages 
followed  their  track  from  the  house,  and  found  them.  The  girls, 
greatly  terrified  by  their  approach,  attempted  to  run  away  from 
them.  But  the  snow  was  so  deep  that  the  Indians,  on  their  snow- 
shoes,  soon  overtook  them.  They  w^ere  permitted,  however,  to  re- 
turn home,  the  Indians  doubtless  thinking  that  such  small  children 
would  be  too  much  of  a  burden  for  them  to  take  along  in  the 
deep  snow.  The  savages  destroyed  everything  valuable  in  and 
about  the  house,  even  cutting  open  the  feather-beds  and  scattering 
their  contents  over  the  floor,  and  carrying  away  everything  eatable 

VOL.  IV.  4*  AG 


82  AUNT  BECKY. 


which  they  could  find.  After  they  had  left  with  their  captives,  it 
being  just  at  evening,  the  mother  took  her  two  daughters  and  a 
peck  of  corn,  which  had  escaped  the  eyes  of  the  enemy,  and  made 
her  way  to  the  nearest  neighbor,  some  two  miles  distant,  where 
they  spent  the  night.  The  next  morning  they  started  on  foot,  with 
their  peck  of  corn  for  provisions,  to  return  to  Connecticut.  It  was 
a  long,  weary  journey  through  the  snow  and  mud.  The  mother 
dealt  out  the  corn  by  small  quantities,  lest  it  should  fail  them  be- 
fore they  reached  Stamford.  x\t  last,  the  kernels  of  corn  were 
counted  to  each  one,  as  her  ration.  But  the  Lord  preserved  the 
disconsolate  mother  and  her  two  daughters  to  reach  the  home 
of  her  father,  where  they  met  with  a  warm  reception,  and  once 
more  had  food  enough  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  their  craving  ap- 
petites. 

But  my  young  readers  are  ready  to  ask.  What  became  of  the 
captives  ?  Well,  after  traveling  through  the  deep  snow  for  many  a 
weary  mile  in  the  dark  woods,  and  being  compelled  to  keep  up 
with  the  Indians  on  their  snow-shoes,  tlie  father,  being  somewhat 
advanced  in  life,  and  worn  out  with  hard  labor,  began  to  lag  be- 
hind. The  Indians  held  a  consultation  in  their  own  lano-uajre, 
after  which  two  of  them  bade  the  old  man  follow  them.  These 
turned  oft' from  the  path  in  which  the  party  were  traveling,  while 
the  rest  went  forward.  After  an  hour  or  more,  the  two  Indians 
who  had  taken  the  old  gentleman  aside,  returned  to  the  main  path, 
and  joined  their  company.  But  the  old  gentleman  was  never  seen 
afterwards ;  and  there  was  unmistakable  evidence  that  he  had 
been  murdered,  for  when  those  two  Indians  returned,  they  were 
clad  in  his  clothing,  and  one  of  them  had  a  fresh  scalp,  which  the 
sons  recognized,  from  some  peculiar  curls  on  it,  as  that  of  their 
poor  father.  After  being  with  the  Indians  a  few  days,  two  of  the 
boys  contrived  to  get  away  while  their  enemies  were  asleep,  and 
returned  to  Connecticut ;  but  one  or  two  of  the  others  never 
came  back.  Descendants  of  several  of  the  sons  of  this  murdered 
patriarch  are  still  living,  two  of  whom  are  now  celebrated  ship- 
builders in  the  citv  of  New  York.  e.  d.  k. 


THE  DAISY  AND  THE  EAR  OF  WHEAT. 


83 


THE  DAISY  AND  THE  EAR  OF  WHEAT. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH,  BY  LAURA  LOVELL. 


AM  fond  of  flowers,  those  smiles  of  Nature  ;  but  I  do 
not  devote  my  garden  entirely  to  them.     Besides  the 
grass-plats,  which,  after  having  served  as  a  carpet  for 
my  walks,  supply  with  hay  the  lofts  of  my  stable ;  be- 
sides the  trees  which  give  by  turns  the  shade  of  their  foliage 
to  my  head  and  the  juice  of  their  fruits  to  my  palate,  I  re- 
serve, every  year,  a  little  corner  of  my  enclosure  for  a  wheat 
field. 

"  What  barbarity  !"  you  say  ;  "  you  disfigure  your  garden  !" 
Listen  to  me,  if  you  please,  before  you  condemn. 
And  first,  I  reply  to  you  that  there  is  nothing  ugly  in  a  field 
of  wheat.  In  the  spring,  it  is  emerald  ;  in  summer,  it  is  gold.  One 
of  my  neighbors,  who  knows  what  he  is  about,  has  in  his  fine 
park  a  field  of  oats  bordered  with  geraniums,  which  forms  a  splen- 
did and  varied  picture. 

But  in  mine,  the  wheat  is  separate  from  the  flowers,  and  con- 
cealed by  a  quick- set  hedge.  It  cannot,  therefore,  disfigure  my 
garden.  On  the  contrary,  I  insist  that  it  honors  it,  and  I  found 
my  assertions  on  an  incident  of  my  childhood  which  is  sacred  to 
me,  a  simple  story  which  has  nothing  scientific  about  it. 

I  was  walking  with  my  father  in  his  garden,  the  very  one  I  am 
now  cultivating.  In  the  spot  where  the  wheat-field  now  is,  there 
was  a  simple  blade  of  wheat,  a  poor  child  of  Mara  which  had  scat- 
tered the  grain  there  beside  a  bed  of  daisies. 

I  thought  the  neighborhood  of  the  wheat  interfered  with  the 
beauty  of  the  flower-bed,  and  I  was  about  to  have  torn  it  up  by  the 
roots,  when  my  father  arrested  my  hand. 

"  We  should  look  twice,"  said  he,  ''  before  we  destroy  a  work  of 
God,  however  little  and  modest  it  may  be.     Who  knows  what  Avill 


84       THE  DAISY  AND  THE  EAR  OF  WHEAT. 

become  of  this  ?  Let  it  live  beside  the  daisies.  We  will  watch 
them  and  compare  their  destinies." 

As  my  father  finished  these  words,  two  children  passed  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hedge.  They  were  the  daughters  of  a  neighbor- 
ing farmer ;  the  one  a  lively,  active  brunette,  with  black  and 
sparkling  eyes  ;  the  other  a  pale  blonde,  with  blue  eyes,  and  a 
gentle,  reflecting  air.  I  remember  their  names.  The  first  w^as 
called  Marie,  the  second  Louise. 

Marie  exclaimed : 

"  What  beautiful  daisies  !  Will  you  please  to  give  me  one, 
sir  ?" 

My  father  beckoned  to  me.  I  chose  the  largest  and  finest 
flower  and  presented  it  to  the  young  girl,  who  placed  it  coquettishly 
in  her  hair. 

My  father,  then,  observing  her  sister,  asked  if  she  did  not  wish  a 
flower  also. 

The  only  reply  of  Louise  was  to  look  blushingly  at  the  blade  of 
wheat  which  was  so  proudly  raising  its  head,  already  giving  prom- 
ise of  a  future  harvest. 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  said  she  at  last ;  "  I  will  ask  you  for  this 
beautiful  ear  of  wheat,  when  it  shall  be  entirely  ripe.  It  shall  be 
my  first  harvest." 

Struck  with  these  words,  my  father  replied  : 

"  Very  well,  little  one  !  you  may  depend  upon  your  wheat." 

When  the  two  children  repassed  in  the  evening,  the  daisy  had 
already  faded  on  the  head  of  Marie,  who  had  forgotten  all  about 
it,  and  played  all  day.  Louise,  laden  with  a  bundle  of  grass,  raised 
her  pretty  face  over  the  hedge,  and  cast  a  hopeful  glance  at  her 
flourishing  wheat-ear. 

"  Remember  these  little  girls,"  said  my  father,  gravely.  "  I  sus- 
pect they  each  resemble  the  different  objects  of  their  desires." 

Then  he  told  me  the  history  of  the  daisy  and  the  wheat. 

In  fields  and  in  gardens  the  daisy  is  the  same ;  pretty,  coquet- 
tish, useless.  That  which  is  called  the  paquerette  springs  up  among 
the  short  grass,  starring  it  with  its  golden  buds  and  white  diadem. 
That  which  takes  the  name  of  the  queen  of  the  meadows  grows 
taller,  and  looks  down  upon  all   around  it.     But  when  the  sickle 


THE   DAISY  AND  THE   EAR  OF  WHEAT.  85 

of  the  reaper  lays  it  low,  it  gives  to  the  earth  only  a  poisonous 
seed,  and  to  the  teeth  of  animals  a  detestable  forage.  Finally, 
that  which  enamels  our  flower-beds  has  but  its  beauty  of  a  day, 
and  affords  to  man  neither  perfume  nor  fruit. 

Tlie  history  of  wheat,  on  the  contrary,  is  that  of  civilization  itself. 
It  springs  up  with  it,  is  developed  by  it,  accompanies  its  progress, 
and  dies  only  in  the  latitudes  where  it  expires.  This  is  the  most 
admirable  harmony  of  Nature. 

On  the  days  following  Marie  continued  to  ask  for  daisies,  deco- 
rate herself  with  them  for  an  hour,  and  lose  them  amid  her  sports. 

When  the  wheat  was  ripe,  Louise  came  to  gather  it  and  carefully 
convey  it  away. 

On  this  day  there  was  a  village  fete.  Marie  passed  the  hours 
in  dancing,  with  her  daisy  in  her  hair.  Louise  gathered  her  grain, 
and  preserved  her  harvest. 

Ten  years  later,  notwithstanding  my  father's  injunction,  I  had 
forgotten  the  two  sisters.  He  reminded  me  of  their  history  with 
that  of  the  daisy  and  the  ear  of  wheat. 

Then  he  took  me  to  the  village,  and  showed  me  at  the  window 
of  a  cottage  surrounded  with  foliage  and  flowers,  a  young  girl  fin- 
ishing her  toilette,  allowing  the  passers-by  to  admire  her  pretty 
face,  her  sparkling  eyes,  and  her  long  black  tresses,  ornamented 
with  a  string  of  beads  and  a  daisy. 

"  It  is  Marie  !"  exclaimed  I. 

"  Yes,  it  is  Marie,  always  vain  and  coquettish,  like  the  first  flower 
we  gave  her.  She  has  spent  her  idle  youth  in  fetes,  and  is  ex- 
pecting a  husband  who  will  never  come,  for  she  has  no  dowry 
but  the  withered  daisies  from  our  garden." 

Thence  we  went  into  a  field  of  ripe  grain,  and  saw  another 
young  girl,  of  calm  and  grave  beauty,  whose  dress  announced 
comfort,  and  who,  with  her  hands  resting  on  the  trunk  of  a  tree, 
was  quietly  contemplating  the  golden  harvest. 

I  i-ecognized  Louise,  and  my  father  said  to  me  : 

"  This  harvest  is  her  own,  and  has  sprung,  furrow  after  furrow, 
and  year  after  year,  from  the  first  ear  of  wheat  which  she  received 
from  us,  and  which  her  own  labors  have  multiplied.  She  has  sub- 
tracted yearly  only  a  portion  for  the  poor,  and  will  obtain  her  re- 


SIGNS. 


ward  after  the  harvest,  by  espousing  the  wisest  and  richest  farmer 
of  the  neighborhood." 

Was  not  such  a  lesson  worth  a  little  corner  of  ground  ?  and  had 
I  not  reason  for  cultivating  a  wheat-field  in  my  garden — happy 
if  my  wheat-ears  find  as  many  Louises,  as  my  daisies  do  Maries  ? 


SIGNS. 

Solomon  said,  many  centuries  ago :  "  Even  a  child  is  known 
by  his  doings,  whether  his  work  be  pure,  and  whether  it  be  right." 

Some  people  seem  to  think  that  children  have  no  character  at 
all.  On  the  contrary,  an  observing  eye  sees  in  these  young  crea- 
tures the  signs  of  what  they  are  likely  to  be  for  life. 

When  I  see  a  little  boy  slow  to  go  to  school,  and  glad  of  every  ex- 
cuse to  neglect  his  book  ;  I  think  it  a  sign  that  he  will  be  a  dunce. 

When  I  see  a  boy  in  haste  to  spend  every  penny  as  soon  as  he 
gets  it ;  I  think  it  a  sign  that  he  will  be  a  spendthrift. 

When  I  see  a  boy  hoarding  up  his  pennies,  and  unwilling  to  part 
with  them  for  any  good  purpose  ;  I  think  it  a  sign  that  he  will  be  a 
miser. 

When  I  see  a  boy  or  girl  always  looking  out  for  themselves,  and 
dislike  to  share  good  things  with  others  ;  I  think  it  a  sign  that  the 
child  will  grow  up  a  very  selfish  person.  "^ 

When  I  see  boys  and  girls  often  quarreling ;  I  think  it  a  sign 
that  they  will  be  violent  and  hateful  men  and  women. 

When  I  see  a  little  boy  willing  to  take  strong  di-ink  ;  I  think 
it  a  sign  that  he  will  be  a  drunkard. 

When  I  see  a  boy  smoking  or  chewing  tobacco  ;  I  think  it  a 
sign  that  he  will  soon  be  guilty  of  other  filthy  habits. 

When  I  see  a  boy  who  never  prays :  I  think  it  a  sign  that  he 
will  be  a  profane  and  profligate  man. 

When  I  see  fTchild  obedient  to  its  parents  ;  I  think  it  a  sign 
oi  great  future  blessings  from  Almiglity  God. 

WTien  I  see  a  boy  fond  of  the  Bible,  and  well  acquainted  with 
it ;  I  think  it  a  sign  that  he  will  be  a  pious  and  happy  man. 


THE  ACOEX  AND  THE  MUSHROOM.  87 


THE  ACORN  AND  THE  MUSHROOM. 


AN    ENGLISH    FABLE    OX    PRIDE    OF    BIRTH. 


Blown  from  a  high  and  spreading  oak, 
An  Acorn  fell,  with  sudden  blow, 

(Making  his  head  ache  with  the  stroke) 
Upon  a  Mushroom  down  below. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  IMushroom,  "  when  you  jump. 

In  future  be  by  prudence  led  ; 
Do  not  fall  on  one  quite  so  plump, 

You  very  nearly  broke  my  head." 

"  Poor  empty  thing !"  the  Acorn  said, 

"How  came  you  here?  on  what  pretence? 

Don't  talk  to  me  about  your  head, 
I'm  shocked  at  your  impertinence. 

"  Hear  and  respect.  Behold  in  me 
The  noblest  offspring  of  the  earth ! 

Fruit  of  the  forest's  proudest  tree, 
Ennobled  both  by  fame  and  birth. 

"  With  me,  such  ancestry  who  trace, 

You  little  unsubstantial  elf! 
(Growth  of  a  night,  mean,  low,  and  base) 

You  do  not  sure  compare  yourself." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  Mushroom,  "  'tis  most  true. 
And  therefore  you  may  spare  your  tongue ; 

So  far  from  claiming  rank  with  you, 
I  really  know  not  whence  I  sprung. 

"  But  merit  makes  the  lowly  shine 
More  than  the  proud  possessing  none ; 

And  if  you.  want  a  proof  of  mine, 
I  think  that  I  can  give  you  one. 

"  I  join  the  scenes  of  festive  mirth. 

And  please  all  palates  when  they  dine; 

While  you  with  all  your  pride  of  birth, 
Are  only  fit  to  feed  the  swine." 


88  DOGS  AST)  DOe-CAETS. 


DOGS  AND  DOG-CARTS. 


p.  ANY  of  the  peasants  in  the  vicinity  of  Rome  are 
very  cruel  to  their  dogs.  In  pursuing  my  ram- 
often  saw  a  fine,  noble- 
looking  Newfoundland  attached  to  a  cart,  and  drawing  a 
load  almost  sufficient  for  a  donkey,  while  his  master  was 
urging  him  on  with  a  whip.  The  Italians  are  a  little 
inclined  to  indolence ;  and  many  of  the  poorer  classes,  who  have 
fruit  and  vegetables  to  bring  into  the  city  from  their  little  farms 
outside  the  walls,  and  who  are  not  worth  enough  to  purchase  a 
more  expensive  animal,  make  their  dogs  pay  roundly  botli  for  their 
masters'  laziness  and  poverty.  I  hope  I  shall  be  forgiven  if  I  con- 
fess I  more  than  once  got  heartily  vexed  with  these  Italian  peasants 
for  their  cruelty  in  this  particular. 

Drawing  loads  by  dog-power  is  not  an  uncommon  thing  in  many 
parts  of  Europe.  Madame  Pfeiffer,  who  has  made  her  name  so 
famous  by  the  publication  of  her  "  Voyage  Around  the  World," 
gives  the  following  account  of  the  use  of  dogs  in  Prague : — "  I 
was  very  much  struck  with  the  number  of  dog-carts  which  I  met 
during  my  long  walk  this  morning.  They  are  used  to  bring  milk, 
vegetables,  and  other  provisions  into  the  city  ;  and  I  almost  fancied 
myself  transported  to  Greenland  or  Lapland,  when  I  saw  so  many 
of  these  animals  in  harness.  Each  cart  is  drawn  by  three  or  four 
dogs.  On  level  ground  they  can  pull  a  weight  of  three  hundred 
pounds,  the  driver  lending  his  assistance  over  the  steep  places. 
The  dogs  have  the  additional  merit  of  being  very  faithful  guar- 
dians, and  I  would  not  advise  any  one  to  venture  too  near  one  of 
these  carts,  when  they  are  standing  before  the  beer-house,  and  their 
owner  is  carousing  within." 


m  mm 


EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


91 


EDITOEIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


THE    CRYSTAL    PALACE.' 


Ifter  this,  when  ue  talk  about  the  "  Crystal  Palace," 
^<  we  shall  have  to  tell  ivhich  crystal  palace  we  mean, 
whether  the  American  or  the  British  ;  for  Brother 
Jonathan,  who  never  likes  to  be  behind  the  rest  of 
the  world  a  gi-eat  while,  has  now  an  establishment  of  this 
kind  which  he  can  call  his  own.  You  all  know  what  I 
mean,  doubtless.  A  crystal  palace,  for  the  "  exhibition  of  the  in- 
dustry of  all  nations,"  on  a  plan  similar  to  that  in  London  which 
created  such  a  sensation  all  over  the  civilized  world,  has  been  erected 
in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  people  not  only  from  every  part  of 
the  Union,  but  from  all  portions  of  the  globe,  are  flocking  to  see  it, 
and  the  interesting  objects  with  which  it  is  filled.  This  beautiful 
edifice,  which  now  forms  of  itself  one  of  the  most  notable  wonders 
which  we  have  to  show  in  the  great  Ameiican  metropolis,  is  situ- 
ated near  the  distributing  reservoir  of  the  Croton  water.  There 
could  not  be  a  better  spot  for  it  on  Manhattan  island.  Omnibuses 
and  railroad  cars,  in  great  numbers,  run  to  and  from  that  vicinity 
and  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  almost  every  minute  during  the 
day  ;  and  those  of  our  friends  who  are  here,  and  who  choose  to  see 
this  great  modern  temple  of  enchantment — and  I  sincerely  hope 
that  all  will  choose  to  do  so — can  reach  it  with  very  little  trouble 
and  expense.  It  only  costs  six  cents  in  the  omnibuses,  and  five 
cents  in  the  railway  cars,  from  the  Park  to  the  Crystal  Palace. 

Through  the  politeness  of  the  secretary  of  the  association  that 
originated  this  great  exhibition,  I  received  an  invitation  to  be  pres- 
ent on  the  occasion  of  the  opening  of  the  palace.  I  accepted, 
cheerfully  and  gratefully.  The  inauguration,  as  they  called  the 
ceremony  of  formally  opening  the  exhibition,  took  place  on  Thurs- 


92  EDirORIAL  TABLE  TALE. 

day,  the  14th  day  of  July.  It  proved  to  be  a  very  fine  day.  The 
hour  appointed  for  opening*  the  doors  of  the  building  to  those 
who  held  notes  of  invitation,  was  ten  o'clock  ;  but  long  before  that 
time  the  city  was  all  astir.  I  don't  know  when  I  have  seen  such 
crowds  in  the  streets  as  there  were  this  morning.  The  President  of 
the  United  States,  who  kindly  consented  to  visit  the  city  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  taking  part  in  the  ceremonies  of  the  occasion,  was 
about  to  arrive ;  and  a  portion  of  the  citizens  and  strangers  were 
pressing  towards  the  Battery,  to  get  a  glimpse  of  him,  and  another 
portion  were  rushing  up  town,  on  foot,  in  private  carriages,  and  in 
the  omnibuses  and  cars,  to  be  ready  to  enter  the  palace  as  soon  as 
the  doors  should  be  opened.  The  military,  too,  were  parading  in 
the  streets,  and  thousands  were  abroad  to  see  them  ;  for  you  must 
know  that  in  our  city  there  is  always  an  almost  insane  passion  to 
see  everything  in  the  shape  of  a  military  pageant.  Ladies  will 
stand  over  the  curb-stones,  broiling  in  a  July  sun,  for  four  hours, 
and  make  nothing  of  it,  to  get  a  glance  for  two  minutes  at  fifty 
men  with  swords,  and  bayonets,  and  a  generous  display  of  feathers 
in  the  gayest  colors.  And  it  is  doubtless  all  well  enough  ;  for  it 
would  be  H  most  deplorable  waste  of  industry  and  money,  this  fre- 
quent exhibition  of  the  "  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war"  in  our 
streets,  if  there  were  no  glad  eyes,  shaded  by  pretty  bonnets,  to  see 
it  withal.  So  I  suppose  it  is  well  enough,  though  I  never  shall 
cease  to  marvel  that  so  large  a  part  of  the  fairer  half  of  our  race 
should  make  such  painful  sacrifices  therefor. 

But  we  will' let  that  pass — the  procession,  I  mean,  of  course.  It 
is  never  best  to  quarrel  with  a  thing,  just  because  you  yourself  don't 
happen  to  take  a  fancy  to  it ;  and  we  will  leave  this  not  very 
amiable  habit  to  such  great  men  as  Dr.  Johnson,  who  always  made 
it  a  point  to  blaze  away  with  all  the  artillery  under  his  control,  at 
everything  under  the  light  of  the  sun,  which  did  not  conform  to 
his  standard  of  taste,  or  rather,  which  did  not  square  with  his 
whims  and  crotchets.  We  will  leave  this  habit,  I  say,  to  Dr.  John- 
son, with  whom  a  fisherman  and  a  fool  were  synonymous  terras, 
because  he  had  no  fondness  for  fishing,  or,  possibly,  because  he  had 
not  wit  enough  to  catch  a  fish. 

The  thousands  who  were  doing  penance  on  the  curb-stones  of 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  93 

Broadway,  those  who  had  the  fortitude  to  remain  until  about  one 
o'clock,  were  at  last  relieved  not  only  by  the  sight  of  ordinary  sol- 
diers, but  a  glimpse  of  the  President  of  the  United  States,  who 
rode  on  horseback,  and  whose  plain,  republican  dress  was  so  little 
distinguished,  that  very  few  could  single  him  out  from  others  in 
the  procession.  May  this  plainness  and  simplicity  last  a  million  of 
years.  The  President  had  not  rode  far  before  a  shower  came  up, 
and  he  was  pretty  thoroughly  drenched,  so  that  he  had  to  change 
his  dress  before  he  took  his  place  on  the  platform  of  the  Crystal 
Palace.  When  he  entered,  there  was  a  perfect  tempest  of  applause. 
Uncle  Frank  made  his  part  of  the  noise,  I  think  ;  for  he  does  not 
dabble  much  in  domestic  politics,  and  has  got  a  habit  of  showing 
just  as  much  respect  and  honor  to  one  President  as  to  another. 
Every  place  in  this  vast  edifice,  where  there  was  a  seat  in  view  of 
the  platform,  and  even  where  there  was  room  to  stand,  was  occu- 
pied at  the  time  when  the  President  took  his  seat.  You  cannot 
imagine  how  closely  the  people  were  packed  together.  They  all 
seemed  to  be  in  good  spirits,  though.  I  saw  very  few  exhibitions 
of  ill  humor.  There  were  some,  as  a  matter  of  course.  Members 
of  the  human  family  can  always  be  found,  among  a  concourse  of 
some  thousands,  who  are  fault-finders  by  profession,  and  who  make 
it  a  point  to  grumble  at  all  times,  and  in  all  circumstances.  When 
they  have  nobody  else  to  grumble  at,  they  turn  around  and  grum- 
ble at  themselves.  Some  of  these  grumblers  were  present  at  the 
opening  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  they  drove  their  trade  with  be- 
coming industry,  though  I  did  not  observe  that  they  made  much 
by  it,  except  the  pleasure,  if  it  be  a  pleasure,  of  getting  laughed  at 
by  the  great  mass  around  them  who  w^ere  good-humored  and  ripe 
for  a  piece  of  fun. 

The  exercises  at  the  inauguration  were  very  imposing.  Bishop 
Wainwright  read  an  appropriate  prayer.  Mr.  Theodore  Sedgwick, 
the  President  of  the  association,  made  an  address,  mostly  directed 
to  the  President  of  the  United  States  ;  President  Pierce,  in  his 
turn,  made  a  brief,  but  pertinent  address  ;  an  ode,  written  for  the 
occasion,  was  sung  by  a  select  choir,  accompanied  by  an  organ ; 
and  Dodworth's  inimitable  band  discoursed  music,  at  different  in- 
tervals, such  as  one  might  rationally  travel  many  miles  to  hear. 


94  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

The  American  Crystal  Palace  is  not  as  large  as  that  which  ex- 
cited so  much  admiration  in  London  in  1851.  But  it  is  a  beauti- 
ful structure,  quite  as  beautiful,  I  think,  as  its  mammoth  cousin 
across  the  water.  Like  that,  it  is  built  mostl}"  of  iron  and  glass. 
It  is  built  in  the  form  of  a  Greek  cross,  that  is,  its  nave  and  tran- 
sept are  equal.  The  dome  which  rises  from  the  centre  is  said  to 
be  the  finest  in  America. 

But  it  was  not  my  intention,  when  I  began  to  talk  to  you  about 
the  opening  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  to  describe  this  wonderful  edi- 
fice, much  less  to  attempt  to  tell  you  what  there  is  in  it.  At  some 
future  time,  when  I  am  more  familiar  with  it  and  its  contents,  I 
shall  hope  to  have  another  talk  with  you  on  the  subject.  Mean- 
time, I  advise  you  to  go  and  see  it,  by  all  means,  if  you  can. 


FOURTH  OF  JULY  AT  TARRYTOWN. 

I  have  already  told  you  that  by  walking  a  few  rods  from  my 
cosy  country  home  in  Tarrytown,  you  may  stand  on  the  identical 
spot  where  the  lamented  Major  xVndre  was  captured.  Well,  a  short 
time  ago  some  of  the  inhabitants — our  English  neighbors  would 
laugh,  if  I  should  say  citizens — determined  they  would  erect  a 
monument  on  this  spot,  to  commemorate  that  sad  event,  or  rather, 
perhaps,  to  point  out  to  future  generations  the  exact  site  of  the 
capture.  So  on  the  fourth  of  July  the  corner  stone  of  this  monu- 
ment was  laid,  with  appropriate  exercises.  We  had  a  fine  time  of 
it,  I  assure  you.  Although  the  weather  was  hot  enough  to  roast 
a  chicken — with  the  help  of  a  little  artificial  heat — the  thing  passed 
off"  admirably.  You  know  it  is  a  too  common  opinion  that  one 
cannot  be  vastly  patriotic  without  getting  tolerably  drunk.  That 
sentiment,  however,  seemed  not  to  have  been  very  popular  on  this 
occasion.  I  saw  ever  so  many  signs  of  patriotic  feeling,  but  almost 
none  of  patriotic  drinking.  And,  by-the-bye,  drunken  people  are 
not  common  "  up  our  way."  As  a  general  thing,  the  descendants 
of  the  old  Knickerbockers,  who  abound  here,  are  straight-forward 
folks,  and  do  not  make  a  practice  of  describing  every  possible  angle 
and  curve  when  they  walk  the  streets,  as  too  many  people  do. 
Practical  geometry  they  pursue  at  proper  times  and  in  suitable 
places,  I  believe,  though  they  endeavor  to  go  at  it  soberly  and 


EDITOEIAL   TABLE   TALK.  95 

rationally.  The  spirit  they  bring  to  bear  upon  it,  in  other  words, 
is  not  of  the  ardent  temperament.  Reeling,  too,  is  mostly  performed 
by  the  fairer  portion  of  the  inhabitants,  ^Yithin  doors,  and  seldom 
by  men,  in  the  public  streets. 

The  boy  who  sent  the  enigma  framed  from  the  words,  "  Spare 
the  rod  and  spoil  the  child,"  is  desired  to  tell  the  editor  in  what 
chapter  of  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon  he  finds  the  sentence  he  has 
employed.     When  he  does  so,  I  shall  print  his  enigma. 


Joseph,  of  Springfield,  Mass.  writes  to  the  editor,  to  say  he  has 
answered  an  enigma,  but  does  not  pay  his  postage.  He  asks  us  to 
excuse  him,  though.  No,  sir.  We  can't  do  any  such  thing. 
There  is  no  excuse  for  such  a  breach  of  courtesy.  C.  H.  Daviess, 
of  Georgetown,  Ky.  may  receive  a  hint  from  this  notice  of  Joseph. 


The  writer  of  "  Time's  Advice,  an  Allegory,"  can  have  his  manu- 
script by  calling  at  the  ofiice  of  the  publisher. 

Very  fine  specimens  of  drawing  and  painting  were  those  of  two 
of  my  little  subscribers  in  Paris,  O.  which  their  father  was  so  kind, 
as  to  forward  to  me — very  fine  indeed,  considering  the  children 
never  had  any  instruction  in  drawing.  They  will  be  artists  some 
day,  I  think. 

NOTICES    OF    NEW    PUBLICATIONS. 

1.  Woodworth^s  Wonders  of  the  Insect  TFo?-/*.?  is  just  published 
by  1>.  A.  Woodworth,  and  may  be  had  at  the  ofiice  of  the  Youth's 
Cabinet,  and  at  all  the  principal  book-stores.'  In  this  volume  all 
manner  of  stories  are  told  about  the  insect  family  generally,  and 
bees  and  ants  especially.  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  respecting 
this  book,  that  it  is  quite  as  interesting  and  attractive  as  either  of 
the  two  volumes  which  preceded  it  in  the  series.  There  are  fifty 
engravings  in  it,  and  many  of  the  stories  are  as  fresh  as  the  dew 
on  the  grass  in  the  morning.  Price  TS  cents,  sent  free  of  postage, 
to  any  jycirt  of  the  Union. 

2.  Home  Life  in  Germany,  by  Charles  L.  Brace,  published  by 


96  EDITOR AL  TABE  TALK 

Charles  Scribner,  of  this  citv.  Those  who  have  read  Mr.  Brace's 
work  on  Hungary,  which  has  been  some  time  before  the  public, 
hardly  need  to  be  told  that  this  volume,  exhibiting  the  domestic 
and  social  life  of  the  Germans,  is  readable  and  instructive.  But 
in  my  judgment,  the  latter  will  be  far  more  generally  read  than  the 
former.     I  like  it  very  much. 

3.  Rachel  Kell  is  the  title  of  a  duodecimo  volume  of  upwards  of 
300  pages,  by  the  author  of  "  My  Mother,"  a  book  which  my  read- 
ers will  remember  received  a  very  flattering  notice  in  the  Cabinet. 
Though  I  have  not  been  able  to  read  this  last  book  through, 
what  I  have  read  in  it  justifies  the  opinion  that  it  will  please  you, 
and  what  is  more  to  the  point,  prove  of  real  benefit. 

4.  Young  Americans  Abroad^  or  Vacations  in  Europe.  I  know 
not  who  is  the  author  of  this  volume,  but  the  publishers  are 
Messrs.  Gould  &  Lincoln,  of  Boston.  It  is  a  record,  in  the  shape 
of  letters,  of  a  tour  in  England  and  some  portions  of  the  Continent. 
A  pretty  good  book. 

5.  The  Island  Home,  or  the  Young  Castatvays,  is  the  title  of 
another  volume  from  the  same  Boston  house.  Those  who  are  fond 
of  thrilling  stories  of  life  both  on  land  and  sea,  will  be  pleased  with 
it;  and  I  have  little  doubt  that  they  will  be  equally  pleased  with 

6.  Pleasant  Pages  for  Young  People,  also  pubHshed  by  Messrs. 
Gould  &  Lincoln.  "  Pleasant  Pages"  ought  to  please,  certainly. 
This  book  has  numerous  illustrations,  and  is  filled  with  a  great 
variety  of  entertaining  matter. 

v.  Novelties  of  the  New  World,  published  as  above,  and  written 
by  Joseph  Banvard,  who  has  done  so  much  to  amuse  and  instruct 
the  young  by  his  stories  and  historical  sketches. 

8.  A  Romance  of  American  History,  by  the  same  author,  and 
published  by  the  same  house.  These  books  of  Mr.  Banvard  ought 
to  have,  and  I  think  will  have,  a  wide  circulation  in  families  where 
there  are  children  of  a  suitable  age  to  appreciate  them. 

9.  The  Schoolfellow,  a  monthly  magazine  published  in  this  city, 
and  edited  by  W.  C.  Richards  and  "  Cousin  Alice."  It  belongs  to 
the  same  category  with  my  own  work,  and  is  most  admirably  con- 
ducted. If  it  don't  succeed,  it  will  not  be  because  it  is  undeserving 
of  success.     May  it  have  a  million  of  subscribers. 


97 


THE  PUZZLEE'S  DKAWER. 

ANSWER    TO    RIDDLE    NO.    I. 

Friend  "  Willie  K"  the  coat  you  made  me  fits  admirably,  only  it  pinches 
a  little  abovit  the  right  shoulder  of  my  reputation.  I  am  not  so  often  trod- 
den under  foot  as  you  may  suppose.  I  have  many  true  friends  to  whom 
even  my  disfigured  face  is  precious.  Nevertheless  I  thank  you  for  the 
garment.     You  meant  it  for  me,  didn't  you  ?     Your  little  friend, 

POSTAGE    STAMP. 


answer  to  riddle  : 
Shadow. 
Solved  by  Ebenezer  Pearce,  of  Marietta,  0. 


ANSWER    TO    charade    NO.    II. 
A  ladder  curtailed  is  a  lad, 
Beheaded,  'tis  an  adder ; 
And  J.  R.  with  a  heart  all  glad, 
Steps  firmly  np  the  ladder. 


ANSWER    TO    riddle    NO.    III. 


4,  2,  1.     4  divided  by  2,  equals  2  ;  1   subtracted  from  2,  leaves   1,  which 
added  to  1,  produces  half  of  4. 

Also  solved  by  B.  T.  of  Tallmadge,  O. ;  Emma  H.  Case,  of  Gustavus,  0. 


ANSWER    TO    SCRIPTURE    ANAGRAMS. 

1.  Jerusalem.  Matt.  \f.  1.  3.  Esarhaddon.  2  Kings,  xix.  7. 

2.  Amalekites.  1  Sam.  xv.  6.     4.  Naomi.  Ruth,  i.  8. 

Answered  by  Ebenezer  Pearce,  of  Marietta,  O. ;  Mary  Sexton  and  H.  P. 
Shepard,  of  Forestville,  N.  Y. ;  Laban  Wells,  of  Manchester,  N.  J. ;  B.  T. 
of  Tallmadge,  0. ;  Henry  H.  Stewart,  of  Sekonk,  Ms. ;  J.  L.  Whiting,  of 
Lowell,  111.  

answer  to  enigma  no.  i. 

Blush. 

Solved  by  Ebenezer  Pearce,  of  Marietta,  0. ;  Anna  Quackenbush,  of 
Schenectady,  N.  Y. ;  H.  H.  B.  of  Bridgeport,  Ct;  Sarah,  of  Fonda,  N.  Y.; 
Mary  Sexton  and  H.  P.  Shepard,  of  Forestville,  N.  Y. ;  Arthur  J.  Wheeler, 
Df  Detroit,  Mich. ;  Carrie,  of  Ann  Harbor,  Mich. ;  Albert  H.  Todd,  of  Prince 
Edward,  Va. ;  John  W.  Sproat,  of  ChilUcothe,  0. ;  E.  P.  Stoddard,  of  Spen- 
cerfort,  N.  Y. ;  Lihan,  of  New  Sharon,  Me. 

VOL.  IV.  5  AG 


98 


THE   PUZZLER'S  DRAWER. 


ANSWER    TO    ENIGMA    NO.   II. 

How  happy  may  those  children  be, 

Each  playmate,  sister,  brother, 
When  with  this  sentence  they  agree, 

And  all  do  love  each  other. 

EBEXEZEB  PEARCE. 

The  answer  was  also  sent  by  Anna  Quackenbush,  of  Schenectady,  N.  Y. ; 
Arthur  J.  Wheeler,  of  Detroit,  Mich. 


ANSWER   TO    THE    GEOGRAPHICAL    QUESTION. 

The  length  of  day  to  the  one  going  east  is  ^|  days  =  23  hrs.  56  min. 
3||  sec.  The  length  to  the  one  going  west  is  f|  j  days  =  24  hrs.  3  min.  57^^ 
sec.  The  one  going  east  thinks  he  returns  on  Saturday,  April  2d.  The  one 
going  west  thinks  he  returns  on  Thursday,  March  31st. 

To  the  last  question  I  may  not  give  the  right  answer.  If  the  days  of 
the  week  in  the  United  States  harmonize  with  Europe,  and  if  Asia  har- 
monizes with  Europe  as  regards  the  days  of  the  week,  then  the  calculations 
of  the  man  going  east  will  be  correct.  He  will  meet  the  other  man  on 
Friday  noon,  the  other  thinking  that  it  is  Thursday  noon.  The  man  going 
west  will  lose  the  right  calculation  in  crossing  the  Pacific.  a. 

The  question  was  also  answered  by  George  A.  Weed,  of  North  Canton,  0. 


THE    DIAMOND    LABYRINTH. 


I  told  my  readers,  last  month,  that  I  would  insert  the  names  of  all  those 
who  found  their  way  into  this  labyrioth,  provided  they  forwarded  their 
names  in  season ;  and  here  they  are.     Quite  a*respectable  army,  is  it  not  ? 


Jane  0.  De  Forest, 
Zilpha  M.  De  Forest, 
Samuel  M.  De  Forest, 
James  M.  Steele, 
Anna  M.  Sanford, 
Fanny  Evelyn, 
Susan  M.  Hatfield, 
George  S.  Morris, 
Edwin  S.  Osgood, 
Sarah  E.  Osgood, 
Wilberforce  Edgerton, 
Theophilus  B.  Smith, 
Alvaro  F.  Gibbens, 
David  R  Waters, 


A.  B.  Mason, 
Howland  P.  Wells, 
Anna  L.  Ely, 
J.  A.  Whiting, 
Arabella  J.  Tuttle, 
John  A.  Pomeroy, 
Emma  H.  Case, 
John  M.  Taylor, 
Caroline  E.  Houser, 
J.  L.  Loomis, 
Cynthia  M.  Osgood, 
Ann  A.  Osgood, 
R.  C. 
John  W,  Sproat, 


W.  T.  Hewit, 
Alida  T.  Fitch, 
Henry  H.  Stewart, 
Curtiss  N.  Hall, 
"  Three  Ohio  Sisters, 
George  A.  Weed, 
Caroline  Putnam, 
N.  C.  Underwood, 
Sally  Treat, 
Ebenezer  Pearce, 
R.  E.  Ames, 
K  Weed, 

Victoria  A.  Taylor, 
Maria  T.  Worden, 


THE   PUZZLER'S  DRAWER. 


99 


Celina  R.  Rose, 
Eineliae  S.  Rose, 
Arthur  J.  Wheeler, 
Sarah, 

Amelia  Carpenter, 
H.  H.  B. 

Florence  Harger, 
Mary  Harger, 
Melissa  Miner, 
James  R.  Johnson, 
Lvdia  0.  Micholson, 
Charles  Bonestell, 
J.  N.  Weed, 
Sarah  Jane  Putnam, 
H.  A.  Barbour, 
Anna  Qnaekenbush, 
John  T.  Bell, 
Columbus  C. 


Hannah  Hooper, 
Mattie  C.  Green, 
Laban  Wells, 
F.  W.  Delano, 
Albert  H.  Todd, 
Carrie. 

O.  L.  Bradley 
John  K.  Lathrop, 
Lucian  C.  Rose, 
Lizzie  Breneman, 
A.  C.  Peck, 
Mary  Sexton, 
H.  H.  Shepard, 
Thomas  Q. 
Alice  Harger, 
Henry  A.  Castle, 
Wm.  F.  Peck, 
Lizzie  Ann  C. 


Samuel  T.  Read, 
Marcellus  K  Moxly, 
William  S.  Hills, 
A.  E.  Wood, 
Julia  M<  Wood, 
Harriet  C.  Wood, 
Joshua  P.  Shaw, 
W.  Douglas, 

A.  G.  P.  Segur, 
Geo.  G.  Gorum, 

B.  H.  Green, 
Mary  Weld, 
William  W.  Williams, 
Ballard  P.  Smith, 
William  H.  Warner, 
Warren  C.  Curtess, 
Birney  B.  Keeler, 


RIDDLE    NO.    III. 

I  leap,  I  run,  but  never  walk; 
I'm  3oft  as  down,  and  hard  as  rock. 
'Tis  said  I'm  weak ;  yet  in  my  wrath 
Terror  and  ruin  mark  my  path. 
I'm  lucid,  white,  I'm  green  and  blue, 
I  have  one  garb  of  every  hue. 
I'm  heavy,  yet  as  spirits  light ; 
I'm  seen,  yet  oft  evade  the  sight. 


CHARADE    NO.    III. 

My  first  is  a  vehicle. 

My  second  is  what  it  does. 

My  whole  is  what  it  carries. 


AMANUENSIS. 


NAMES    OF    PLACES    IN    ASIA,    ENIGMATICALLY    EXPRESSED. 

1.  Name  for  a  shrub,  and  a  word  meaning  wrath. 

2.  A  sack,  and  a  contraction  for  father. 

3.  A  name  for  money,  and  a  word  signifying  mother  in  another  language. 

4.  A  small  horse,  and  an  adjective  signifying  poverty. 

5.  A  pronoun,  and  a  building  for  shelter.  s.  e.  Wilson. 


100  THE  puzzler's  DRAWER. 


ENIGMA    NO.    III. 

I  am  composed  of  22  letters. 

My  5,  7,  13,  9,  6,  is  a  river  in  Europe. 

My  12,  15,  8,  9,  6,  is  a  river  in  France. 

My  1,  6,  4,  10,  17,  is  a  great  help  to  tidy  houses ivee. 

My  8,  15,  13,  4,  is  one  of  the  western  States. 

My  3,  10,  12,  21,  is  a  place  of  defence. 

My  2,  19,  1,  6,  is  a  river  in  Germany. 

My  5,  4,  17  2,  is  a  city  in  Italy. 

My  19,  22,  10,  9,  14,  is  a  city  in  France. 

My  14,  21,  19,  4,  11,  13,  14,  is  a  city  in  Missouri. 

My  7,  16.  12,  8,  9,  is  a  town  on  lake  Erie. 

My  1,  11,  21,  19,  2,  12,  is  a  county  in  Ohio. 


ENIGMA    NO.    IV. 

I  am  a  proverb  composed  of  25  letters  which  may  be  divided  into  5  equal 
parts  of  6  letters  each,  all  of  which,  as  well  as  myself,  may  be  found  by 
searching  the  Scriptures. 

My  1,  19,  16,  3,  8,  was  a  very  good  person,  who  did  a  very  bad  deed. 

My  5,  24,  18,  21,  11,  was  a  very  bad  person,  who  did  a  very  good  deed. 

My  10,  23,  6,  4,  20,  is  the  name  of  two  very  different  characters. 

My  2,  15,  13,  12,  25,  is  a  name  more  common  than  either  of  the  above, 
but  was  no  wiser  nor  better  than  my  10,  23,  6,  4,  20. 

Mv  17,  7,  22,  9,  14,  are  the  first  five  letters  of  an  expression  of  Christ  in 
performing  a  certain  miracle. 

My  whole  is  a  very  just  comparison.  j.  w.  s. 

REBUS    NO.    I. 

I  am  a  verb  signifying  to  disfigure.  Transpose  me,  I  become  a  part  of 
the  human  body.     Transpose  me  again,  and  I  become  an  animal. 

ALPHA. 

A    GEOGRAPHICAL    CHARADE. 

My  first,  a  substance  found  in  trees  ; 

My  second  and  my  first  the  same ; 
My  third  a  vowel  sometimes  is ; 

My  whole  in  Asia  has  a  name. 
•  My  first  within  my  whole  you'll  find. 

Although  'tis  not  a  staple  there  ; 
My  first  and  second  too  combined. 

Within  my  whole  breathes  native  air.  lauea. 


THE   ENGLISH   PEASANT. 


101 


THE  ENGLISH  PEASANT. 

The  peasant  of  old  England  is  a  curious  specimen  of  human  na- 
ture. I  shall  never  forget  how  intensely  this  class  of  the  English 
people  interested  me  in  my  excursions  about  the  country.  I  had  a 
good  opportunity  of  studying  them,  at  different  times  while  I  was  in 
England,  particularly  in  an  excursion  on  the  Isle  of  Wight.  All  the 
way  from  Ryde — the  point  on  the  island  at  which  you  land  passing 
over  in  the  ferry-boat  from  Portsmouth — to  Brading,  the  little  vil- 
lage where  the  godly  Legh  Richmond  labored,  and  where  is  to  be 
seen  the  humble  grave  of  the  "  Young  Cottager,"  you  encounter 
the  little  thatched  cottages  of  these  peasants.  The  island  on  which 
they  live  is  their  world,  almost.  They  know  but  little  of  what  is 
going  on  fifty  miles  from  them.     Yet  are  they  generally  a  cheej-ful, 


102  THE   ENGLISH  PEASANT. 

happy,  contented  class  of  people.  Happiness,  you  know,  does  not 
dance  attendance  on  any  particular  place,  and  is  not  inseparably 
connected  with  any  class  of  circumstances.  I  chose  to  walk  from 
Ryde  to  Brading.  If,  when  I  stepped  on  board  the  ferry-boat  at 
Portsmouth,  I  had  formed  a  contrary  determination — and  I  will 
not  undertake  to  say  at  this  late  day,  that  such  was  not  the  case — 
I  felt  quite  ashamed  to  ride  when  I  arrived  at  the  island  ;  for 
on  board  the  boat  I  met  a  Portsmouth  lady  and  her  daughter, 
bound  on  a  pedestrian  tour  to  the  same  spot.  The  English  ladies 
walk  a  great  deal  more  than  we  do  here  in  America.  It  is  more 
than  four  miles  from  Ryde  to  Brading,  so  that  these  ladies  walked 
about  nine  miles  in  their  excursion  on  the  Isle  of  Wight  that 
day.  They  had  a  call  to  make  on  the  way,  a  short  distance  off 
the  main  road  ;  and  we  agreed  to  meet  in  the  church -yard  at 
Brading,  where  they  promised  to  point  out  to  me  the  retired 
resting-place  of  the  "  Young  Cottager."  So  I  pursued  my  walk 
alone.  It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  I  can  hardly  remember  when  I 
enjoyed  myself  more  in  a  solitary  ramble.  The  pretty  hawthorn 
hedges,  so  abundant  in  every  part  of  England,  add  greatly  to  the 
charms  of  a  walk  in  the  country.  You  cannot  imagine  how 
pretty  they  are,  when  they  are  in  blossom,  and  they  fill  the  air 
with  their  sweet  odor.  How  I  do  wish  we  had  the  hawthorn  hedge 
of  our  fatherland  on  our  own  farms.  Nearly  all  the  houses  are 
thatched.  Most  of  them  are  the  cottages  occupied  by  those  who 
till  the  soil.  In  England,  almost  all  the  land  is  owned  by  large 
proprietors,  and  the  soil  is  cultivated  by  tenantry,  who  pay  rent  to 
the  landlord,  either  in  money  or  in  the  produce  of  the  farm.  The 
cottages  of  the  actual  farmers  are  generally  plain  and  simple.  It  is 
especially  so  on  the  Isle  of  Wight.  The  roofs  of  the  cottages  are 
thatched  with  straw,  which  gives  them  a  very  picturesque  appear- 
ance, especially  when,  as  is  often  the  case,  they  are  half  buried  in 
ivy.  One  of  these  cottages  completely  charmed  me.  I  had  great 
difficulty  in  passing  it,  so  strong  was  the  inclination  to  go  in.  I 
wish  you  could  have  seen  the  outside  of  the  cottage  that  ftiscin- 
ated  me  so  perfectly.  It  was  completely  embowered  in  ivy.  You 
could  only  get  a  peep  of  the  cottage  through  the  loops  of  the  foli- 
age around  the  door  and  windows.     It  was  just  such  a  cottage  as 


THE  ENGLISH  PEASANT.  103 

you  have  seen  sketched  by  the  poets  pen,  but  which  you  have  no 
doubt  thought  had  no  existence  except  in  his  imagination.  But 
there  it  was,  for  all  the  world,  the  identical  little  fairy  cottage  so 
long  celebrated  in  the  songs  of  our  fatherland.  I  am  sure  I  never 
saw  anything  in  my  life  that  had  a  more  cosy  and  homelike  ap- 
pearance than  this  modest  dwelling.  With  a  good  grace,  thought 
I,  can  these  peasants  sing  "  Home,  sweet  home."  It  was  the  beau 
ideal  of  the  home  pictured  in  these  touching  lines  : 


*"Mid  pleasures  and  palaces  though,  vtq  may  roam, 
3e  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  home. 
A  charm  from  the  skies  seems  to  hallo^w  us  there, 
"Which,  seek  through  the  ^^orld,  is  not  met  with  elsewhere. 

An  exile  from  home,   splendor  dazzles   in  vain  ; 
Oh,  give  me   my  lowly  thatched  cottage    again, 
Where  the    hirds   sing  gaily  that   come  at  my  call — 
Give  me  these,  with  the  peace  of  mind,  dearer  than  all." 


I  said  I  had  hard  w^ork  to  get  by  that  cottage,  so  strongly  tempt- 
ed was  I  to  make  some  errand,  and  to  go  in.  However,  I  did  get 
a  rod  or  two  past  it.  But  I  turned  back  again,  like  the  confirmed 
inebriate,  who  has  been  known  to  succeed  in  passing  a  tavern,  and 
in  consequence,  go  back  and  "  treat  his  resolution."  I  turned  back, 
and  opened  the  little  gate.  It  was  midsummer.  The  weather  was 
warm.  The  door  of  the  cottage  stood  open.  The  inmates  did 
not  wait  for  me  to  knock.  Seeing  me  approach,  an  elderly  ma- 
tron came  to  meet  me,  and  to  show  me  a  seat  in  the  "  best  room." 
I  called  for  a  glass  of  water.  As  quick,  almost,  as  a  bird  could  fly, 
a  little  girl — Alice  was  her  name  ;  I  don't  mean  to  forget  little 
Alice — ran  off,  singing  as  she  ran,  to  the  spring,  a  few  rods  from 
the  house.  A  young  woman  in  the  same  room  was  braiding  straw 
for  men's  hats.  She  was  a  young  wife,  I  learned,  and  the  matron 
I  at  first  encountered  was  her  mother-in-law.  Braiding  straw,  she 
said,  was  a  common  employment  of  hers.  In  the  most  artless 
manner  possible,  she  told  me  how  much  money  this  labor  brought 
the  fiimily.  To  her  it  seemed  ^  large  sum,  though  I  could  hardly 
repress  a  sigh  when  she  named  it,  for,  compared  with  the  avails  of 


104  THE  ENGLISH  PEASANT. 

such  labor  in  our  own  country,  the  amount  was  exceedingly- 
small. 

There  were  some  half  a  dozen  children  at  home — the  good 
matron  said,  with  some  little  pride,  I  thought,  that  there  were  thir- 
teen "  all  told," — at  the  time  I  called  ;  and  when  I  told  them  I 
was  from  America,  you  ought  to  have  seen  how  widely  they  open- 
ed their  eyes  in  wonder.  None  of  the  family  had  ever  seen  a  live 
American  before,  "  to  know  him."  The  mother  aforesaid  ran  out 
into  the  field  to  call  Jamie,  the  husband  of  the  woman  braiding 
straw  ;  and  when  she  ushered  him  into  the  room,  she  pointed  to 
me,  and  said,  panting  for  breath,  she  had  run  so  fast,  "  There  he 
is,  Jamie  ;  he  came  all  the  way  from  Mcr'ikijy  Then  followed  in- 
numberable  questions  about  this  country — whether  it  was  as  good 
as  England  for  "  the  like  of  them" — if  it  cost  much  to  get  across 
the  water — if  the  lords  were  good  to  their  tenants — if  we  had  any 
churches  and  schools — and  about  the  savages — whether  most  of 
the  people  dressed  in  skins  now,  and  so  on.  I  enlightened  them 
on  these  and  other  points,  as  well  as  I  was  able  ;  and  I  do  not 
believe  that  Desdemona  ever  listened  to  the  "  hair-breadth  'scapes" 
of  the  ebony  Moor  with  more  interest  than  these  simple-hearted 
peasants  evinced  in  what  I  had  to  say  to  tliem  of  the  western 
world. 

I  observed  a  Bible  on  the  little  table  in  the  "  best  room."  In 
reply  to  ray  inquiry  if  they  were  able  to  read  this  volume,  tlie 
good  old  lady  said,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  thiit  she  and  her  old 
man  had  never  had  any  schooling,  and  that  they  could  only  just 
spell  out  their  letters,  but  that  her  children  went  to  school,  and 
that  they  read  aloud  in  the  Bible  every  day.  Her  inquiries  about 
our  savages  seemed  to  suggest  another  respecting  the  idolatrous 
natives  of  India.  "  They  do  tell  of  folk,"  said  she,  "  that  lives  a 
long  piece  oft' — 1  don't  justly  'member  where — that  puts  hooks 
into  their  backs,  and  swings  in  the  air  in  this  way  ;  and  that 
they  sometimes  lie  right  down  on  the  ground,  and  lets  a  gi-eat 
cart-wheel  run  over  them.  Do  you  think  this  is  true  ?"  I  told 
her  I  had  no  doubt  of  it.  "  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  'spose  it  is  true. 
But  raly  I  don't  know  what  to  rfake  of  it.  I  sets  down  some- 
times, and  studs,  and  studs  about  it,  and  I  wonders  why  the  good 


THE   ENGLISH   PEASANT.  105 

Loi'd  made  people  so  ignorant  and  so  bad,  it  seems  so  strange !" 
Poor  old  woman  !  slie  was  straining-  away  at  one  of  the  toughest 
of  all  those  roots  tliat  do  so  try  the  patience  of  the  learned  doc- 
tors of  divinity.  I  could  hardly  help  smiling  when  she  broached 
a  toj^ic  concerning  which  books  enough  have  been  written  to 
freight  a  small  ship,  and  which  is  still  quite  in  the  dark.  As 
may  be  supposed,  I  did  not  enter  into  the  discussion  of  the  mat- 
ter at  any  great  length  ;  for  it  is  always  wise,  I  think,  not  to  affect 
a  very  great  amount  of  wisdom,  when  one  has  but  a  meagre  stock 
of  it  on  hand. 

There  was  quite  an  intelligent  and  sprightly  kitten  playing  its 
pranks  about  the  room.  Observing  that  I  took  some  notice  of 
this  pet  of  theirs,  the  good  old  Avoman,  upon  my  rising  to  leave, 
begged  I  would  accept  it  as  a  present,  and  take  it  to  MeriJcij  with 
me  for  their  sakes.  "  Oh,  no,"  I  replied.  "  I  couldn't  think  of 
doing  such  a  thing.  You  set  such  a  store  by  it,  that  I  know  you 
would  miss  it  very  much.-'  Still,  however,  the  kind  matron  urged 
the  little  kitten  upon  me,  the  rest  of  the  family  assuring  me  that 
I  should  be  perfectly  welcome  to  it  ;  and  it  was  only  when  I  told 
them  that  I  should  not  know  how  to  carry  it  to  Liverpool — for  I 
think  I  should  have  been  in  a  condition  somewhat  like  that  of  the 
poor  fellow  who  drew  the  elephant  in  a  lottery — that  they  would 
listen  to  a  denial.  I  left  these  peasants  at  the  gate  of  the  cot- 
tage, the  good  old  mother,  in  behalf  of  them  all,  commending  me 
to  God  as  I  bade  them  farew^ell. 

And  so  I  went  on  toward  Brading,  where,  as  I  expected,  I  found 
the  ladies  from  Portsmouth.  There  is  a  little  cottage  near  the 
old  church,  occui>ied  by  the  sexton.  In  the  door  of  this  cottage, 
these  ladies  were  standing,  ready  to  conduct  me  to  the  grave  of 
the  "  Young  Cottager,"  as  they  had  promised  to  do.  The  mistress 
of  this  humble  dwelling,  who  was  busy  with  her  washing  wdien  I 
entered,  seemed  to  have  had  a  little  better  opportunity  of  culti- 
vating an  acquaintance  with  the  woi'ld  at  large,  than  the  one  I 
had  seen  on  the  way,  though  she  was  equally  artless  and  good- 
natured.  A  shower  came  up  soon  after  I  reached  the  place,  in 
consequence  of  wliich  we  were  detained  an  hour  or  more  in  this 
tidy  little  cottage,  during  which  time  I  learned  a  great  deal  about 


106  THE   ENGLISH  PEASANT, 

Brading  from  the  mistress  of  the  house,  who  soon  left  her  wash- 
ing, rolled  down  her  sleeves,  and  took  a  seat  by  our  side. 

I  lost  no  time  after  the  shower  was  over  in  accompanying  my 
two  guides  to  the  grave  of  the  "  Young  Cottager."  The  church 
in  the  yard  of  which  this  modest  grave  is  situated,  is  the  oldest  on 
the  island.  It  has  a  history  of  its  own  worth  relating,  though,  had 
it  no  other  association  of  interest  to  recommend  it  than  that  it  was 
once  the  theatre  of  the  labors  of  Legh  Richmond,  it  would  be  dear 
to  every  Christian's  heart.  With  feelings  little  short  of  reverence, 
I  entered  the  edifice,  and  read  the  inscriptions  on  the  tombs  of  those 
whom  the  world  called  "  noble."  But  I  soon  left  these  ancient 
monuments  of  earthly  greatness,  and  followed  my  friends  to  the 
resting-place  of  one  who  was  little  honored  by  the  world,  but  who 
is  now  a  princess  at  the  court  of  heaven. 

A  plain  monument  is  that  of  the  "  Young  Cottager."  Any  other 
Avould  be  out  of  place.  It  is  a  simple  slab  of  marble.  It  was 
placed  there  by  her  excellent  pastor,  by  Legh  Richmond  himself. 
On  it  are  these  w^ords :  "  Sacred  to  the  memory  of  '  Little  Jane,' 
.who  died  30th  Jan.  1799,  in  the  15th  year  of  her  age. 

"Ye    -who  the  power  of  God  delight  to  trace, 
And  mark  -with  joy  each  monument  of  grace. 
Tread  lightly  o'er  this  grave,   as  ye  explore 
The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor. 

A  child  reposes  underneath  this   sod, 
A  child  to  memory  dear,  and  dear  to  God — 
Rejoice,  yet   shed  the   sympathetic  tear — 
Jane,  the    'Young  Cottager,'   lies   huried  here." 

I  did  shed  a  tear  over  this  grave — whether  one  of  sympathy  or 
not  I  cannot  tell.  We  shed  tears,  sometimes,  when  we  can  hardly 
determine  to  what  class  of  feelings  to  ascribe  them. 

While  sitting  at  this  gi'ave,  one  of  my  companions  pointed  to  a 
head-stone  standing  just  at  the  side  of  the  "Young  Cottager's," 
and  resembling  it  in  size  and  general  form.  "  The  little  girl,"  said 
the  lady,  "  whose  remains  lie  beneath  this  stone,  has  a  history 
which  may  interest  you."     And  then  she  told  me  the  following  story  : 

Little  Anna  was  the  daughter  of  an  oflScer  in  the  army.  His 
regiment  was  for  a  time  stationed  in  Portsmouth.     During  this  pe- 


THE  ENGLISH  PEASAKT.  107 

riod,  liis  family  became  intimately  acquainted  with  my  companions. 
Little  Anna  was  a  devoted  and  exemplary  Christian,  and  took  a 
great  deal  of  delight  in  reading  the  narrative  of  the  "  Young  Cot- 
tager." One  day  she  visited  Brading  with  her  mother,  and  they 
went  together  to  this  quiet  church-yard,  and  stood  beside  the  grave 
of  Jane.  AVhile  here,  she  was  much  affected,  and  said,  "  Mother, 
if  I  should  die  while  we  are  in  Portsmouth,  I  would  like  to  have 
you  lay  me  by  the  side  of  the  '  Young  Cottager.'  "  Her  mo.ther 
smiled,  and  said  she  hoped  her  daughter  would  live  a  great  while 
longer  than  they  remained  at  that  station.  "  But  still  I  may  die^ 
mother,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  and  if  I  should,  may  I  come  and  lie 
down  here  ?"  Her  mother,  seeing  how  much  in  earnest  she  was, 
said  "  yes."  At  that  time  little  Anna  was  well.  But  in  less  than  six 
months'  time,  she  was  taken  ill  and  died — and  they  buried  her  here, 
according  to  her  request,  close  by  the  side  of  the  "  Young  Cottager." 

I  visited  the  house  where  the  "  Young  Cottager"  lived  and  died. 
It  was  one  of  the  j^hiinest  in  Brading,  with  a  roof  thatched  Hke  the 
one  I  have  already  described.  It  was  occupied  by  a  family  who 
seemed  to  have  a  great  veneration  for  little  Jane,  and  they  volun- 
tarily and  cheerfully  showed  us  every  part  of  the  old  mansion. 

After  this,  I  walked  back  to  Ryde  in  company  with  my  two 
fj'iends,  stopping  on  the  way  at  the  cottages  of  several  of  the  peas- 
antry, and  extending  my  acquaintance  with  this  class  of  people. 

But  it  is  time  to  bring  my  rough  sketch  of  the  English  peasantry 
to  a  close.  I  cannot  do  so,  however,  without  quoting  a  paragraph 
from  one  who  has  had  a  much  better  opportunity  to  judge  of  this 
branch  of  the  human  family,  than  I  have.  He  says  :  "  The  Eng- 
lish peasant  is  the  rough  block  of  English  character.  Hew  him 
out  of  the  quarry  of  ignorance  ;  dig  him  out  of  the  slough  of 
everlasting  labor  ;  chisel  him,  and  ])olish  him  ;  and  he  will  come 
out  whatever  you  please.  Pie  has  wit  enough  when  it  is  wanted ; 
he  can  be  merry  enough  when  there  is  occasion  ;  he  is  ready  for  a 
fight  wdien  his  blood  is  well  up,  and  he  will  take  to  his  books  if 
you  will  giv^e  him  a  schoolmaster.  He  will  learn  to  wear  silk 
stockings,  scarlet  plush  breeches,  collarless  coats,  with  silver  but- 
tons, an<.l  swing  open  a  gate  with  grace,  or  stand  behind  anybody's 
carriage  with  his  wand  as  smoothly  impudent  as  any  of  the  tribe 


108  THE   ENGLISH  PEASANT. 

of  footmen.  Or  he  will  clerk  it  with  a  pen  behind  his  ear,  or 
mount  a  pulpit,  if  you  will  give  him  a  chance.  But  keep  him 
down,  and  don't  press  him  too  hard  ;  feed  him  pretty  w^ell,  and 
give  him  plenty  of  work,  and  he  will  drudge  on  to  the  day  of  his 
death.  Let  us  look  now  at  his  dress.  First  comes  the  blue  slop 
called  the  Newark  frock.  A  man  would  not  think  himself  a  man, 
if  he  had  not  one  of  those  slops,  which  are  the  first  thing  that  he 
sees  at  a  market  or  a  fair,  hung  aloft  at  the  end  of  a  slop-vender's 
stall,  on  a  crossed  pole,  and  waving  about  like  a  scarecrow  in  the 
wind.  Under  this  he  generally  wears  a  coarse  blue  jacket,  a  red 
or  yellow  shag  waistcoat,  stout  blue  worsted  stockings,  tall  laced 
ankle-boots,  and  corduroy  breeches,  or  trousers.  A  red  handker- 
chief around  his  neck  is  his  delight,  with  two  good  long  ends 
dangling  in  front.  In  many  other  parts  of  the  country  he  wears 
no  slop  at  all,  but  a  corduroy  or  fustian  jacket,  with  capacious 
pockets  and  buttons  of  giant  size.  This  is  his  every-day  style — but 
on  a  Sunday  or  holyday,  when  he  turns  out  to  church,  wake,  or 
fair,  if  he  has  not  his  best  slop  on,  which  has  never  yet  been  defiled 
by  touch  of  labor,  he  is  conspicuous  in  his  blue,  brown,  or  olive- 
green  coat  and  waistcoat  of  glaring  color — scarlet — or  blue  or  green 
striped — but  it  must  be  sliowy;  and  a  pair  of  trousers  generally 
blue,  with  a  width  nearly  as  ample  as  a  sailor's,  and  not  only  guilt- 
less of  the  foppery  of  being  strapped  down,  but,  if  he  find  the  road 
rather  dirty  or  the  grass  dewy,  they  are  turned  up  three  or  four 
inches  at  the  bottom,  so  as  to  show  the  lining.  On  these  days  he 
has  a  hat  of  modern  shape,  that  has  very  lately  cost  him  four-and- 
sixpence,  and  if  he  fancies  himself  rather  handsome,  or  stands  well 
witli  the  women,  he  cocks  it  a  little  on  one  side,  and  wears  it  with 
a  knowing  air.  He  wears  the  collar  of  his  coarse  shirt  up  on  a 
holyday,  and  his  flaming  handkerchief  round  his  neck  puts  forth 
dangling  ends  of  an  extra  length,  like  streamers.  The  most 
troublesome  business  of  a  full-dress  day,  is  to  know  what  to  do  with 
his  hands.  He  is  dreadfully  at  loss  where  to  put  them.  On  other 
days  they  have  plenty  of  occupation,  but  to-day  they  are  miserably 
sensible  of  a  vacuum.  They  are  sometimes  diving  into  his  coat 
pocket,  sometimes  into  his  trousers'  pocket,  and  at  others  into  !■  is 
waistcoat  pocket.     The  great  remedy  for  this  inconvenience  is  % 


FEIGNIXG   DEATH.  109 


stick  or  switch  ;  and  in  the  corner  of  his  cottage,  between  the 
clock-case  and  the  wall,  you  commonly  see  a  stick  of  a  description 
that  indicates  its  owner.  It  is  an  ash-plant ;  or  a  thick  hazel ;  or 
it  is  a  switch  that  is  famous  for  cutting  off  the  heads  of  thistles, 
daises,  or  nettles,  as  he  goes  along." 


FEIGNIlS^a  DEATH. 


Most  j^ersons,  we  imagine,  have  been  amused  at  the  perfect  way 
in  which  the  Dor  Beetle  feigns  death  on  being  captured  ;  there  it 
lies,  stiff  and  rigid.  "  Poor  thing  !"  says  the  unsuspicious  traveler, 
"  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  it ;  but  this  blundering  and  buzzing  about 
one's  eyes  and  ears  was  intolerable.  I  only  just  struck  it  down  with  my 
handkei'chief,  and  see,  now  it  is  dead."  He  drops  it  again  on  the 
grass,  from  whence  he  has  picked  it  up,  and  passes  on  with  a  sigh, 
to  think  that  he  has  put  a  stop  to  one  happy  existence.  Scarcely 
is  he  a  yard  from  the  spot,  before  the  rigid  spiny  legs  become  lim- 
ber, the  motionless  shards  are  expanded,  and  out  come  the  filmy 
wings,  and  the  late  seemingly  dead  insect  is  blundering  and  droning 
away  as  actively  as  ever.  "  Ca-aw,  ca-aw,"  comes  along  a  home- 
ward bound  crow,  flying  low,  to  see  if  he  can  pick  up  a  choice  mor- 
sel for  supper.  Alas,  for  the  pooi*  Dor  Beetle  !  he'll  soon  be  as  dead 
as  mutton  ;  and  dead  he  is,  sure  enough,  killed  with  fright,  one 
would  think.  Down  he  drops,  and  down,  too,  comes  the  crow,  eyes 
him  for  a  moment  with  head  on  one  side,  in  contemplative  attitude, 
turns  him  over,  to  see  if  the  creature  is  really  lifeless,  and  then  sat- 
isfied with  the  scrutiny,  spreads  out  his  sable  wings,  and  sails  away 
supperless,  preferring  rather  to  do  this  than  to  feast  upon  an  insect 
which  he  has  not  had  the  pleasure  of  first  killing.  Up  again 
springs  the  cunning  (not  the  dull)  beetle,  as  Gisborne  calls  it, 

"  That  ever  and  anon  smites   us   -with  sudden   strode. 
Stopping  at  once   its  heavy  hum." 

And  thus  ends  an  "  Episode  of  Insect  life,"  which  "  Acheta  Domes- 
tica"  has  neglected  to  write  ;  more's  the  pity,  for  no  one  else  could 
write  it  so  well, 


110 


ALICE  CAREY^S  PET  DOVES. 


ALICE  CAREY'S  PET  DOVES. 

When  I  was  a  little  girl  (says  Alice  Carey)  I  was  very  anxious 
to  have  a  bird  of  my  own,  to  make  a  }>et  of  and  to  play  with. 

In  the  spring'  I  could  gather  very  pretty  wild  blossoms  in  the 
woods,  but  they  faded  in  the  hot  summer  sun,  and  in  the  autumn 
withered  and  died,  and  I  wanted  something  that  I  cx)uld  love  and 
keep  all  the  year.  Once  or  twice  Ihad  been  in  a  great  city,  and 
seen  birds  in  wire  cages,  that  hung  at  the  doors  and  windows,  and 
I  thouo-ht  if  I  could  have  a  cashed  bird  it  would  be  a  wonderfully 
pleasant  thing.  Many  times  I  went  to  the  woods  in  the  hope  of 
catching  a  bird — but  the  dear  little  creatures  always  discovered 
me,  walk  lightly  as  T  would,  and  flew  away  before  T  came  within 
reach. 


ALICE  Carey's  pet  doves.  Ill 

Bright  red  and  yellow  birds  there  were,  swinging  gaily  on  the 
limbs,  lithe  and  lofty,  and  these  were  especially  attractive  to  me; 
but  they  only  mocked  me  with  their  beauty,  for  they  were  more 
shy  and  lodged  higher  in  the  trees  than  those  of  duller  plumage. 
How  they  whistled  and  twittered  away  up  -in  the  tree-tops.  Little 
brown  creatm'es  hopped  along  before  me  sometimes,  but  when  I 
reached  for  them,  they  were  gone.  And  plump  quails,  in  flocks 
of  a  dozen,  ran  along  the  meadows  very  tamely,  but  when  I  came 
close  upon  them,  up  they  flew  with  a  whirr  that  made  my  heart 
beat  fast  for  half  an  hour.     And  so,  all  my  expedients  failed. 

But  I  still  thought  that  by  some  lucky  chance  one  might  fall 
into  my  hands — that  probably  I  might  find  a  nest  containing 
young  ones  ;  and  pleasing  myself  with  such  hopes,  I  gathered  the 
branches  of  the  willow  and  wove  them  into  a  cage.  This  cost  me 
much  time  and  trouble — the  task  proving  too  difiicult  for  such 
simple  ingenuity  as  I  was  master  of — but  at  last  my  design  found 
a  rude  sort  of  execution,  and  I  resolved  to  confide  my  plans  and 
wishes  to  my  mother,  of  whose  ability  to  accomplish  my  aims  I 
had  not  the  least  doubt. 

A  sad  disappointment  it  Mas,  when  she  told  me  it  would  be 
cruel  to  catch  a  free  wild  bird,  that  loved  the  air  and  the  sunshine, 
and  to  sing,  among  its  mates  high  up  in  the  tree-tops,  and  confine 
it  in  a  little  close  prison  alone,  where  it  could  get  no  food  that  it 
liked,  and  never  see  its  mates  any  more.  I  hung  away  the  cage. 
I  could  not  bear  to  destroy  it,  for  I  felt  that  wdiile  that  was  in  ex- 
istence, I  had  hope  of  some  time  obtaining  my  prize. 

One  day,  while  playing  in  the  barn,  I  discovered  a  dove's  nest, 
but  so  high,  that  I  at  first  despaired  of  reaching  it.  But  we  gen- 
erally find  the  means,  when  in  earnest  about  a  thing,  and  it 
rarely  liappens  that  the  bending  of  all  our  energies  to  any  point, 
meets  with  a  total  defeat.  A  plan  soon  suggested  itself,  which  I 
at  once  adopted,  tliat  of  heaping  together  the  sheaves  of  oats  di- 
rectly beneath  the  nest.  This  was  a  tedious  work,  for  they  often 
fell  down,  and  I  was  forced  to  build  my  fabric  anew  many  times. 
At  last,  by  standing  on  tiptoe,  my  hand  could  just  reach  the  beam 
where  the  nest  was.  Away  flew  the  mother-bird,  and  the  next 
moment  I  held  one  of  her  young  ones  in  my  hand,  and  presently 


112  ALICE  CAKEY'S  pet  DOVES. 

anotlier.  ^\'liat  featherless,  gaping  little  things  they  were  !  I  was 
half  inclined  to  replace  them,  both  from  compunction  and  because 
of  their  ugliness  ;  but  we  do  not  like  willingly  to  let  go  a  bird 
once  in  the  hand,  and  after  a  little  hesitancy,  I  climbed  down  with 
the  young  doves  in  my  apron.  A  nice  warm  nest  I  made,  and 
supposed  I  could  take  better  care  of  them  than  the  mother-bird, 
but  I  think  now  I  was  mistaken.  Much  trouble  they  gave  me  in 
learning  to  eat,  and  for  some  days  I  forcibly  opened  their  mouths 
and  obliged  them  to  take  food.  They  did  not  seem  to  flourish 
or  grow,  and  I  was  quite  discouraged  for  a  time ;  but  in  the 
course  of  a  few  months  they  learned  to  peck  from  my  hand,  and 
would  fly  all  about  the  house,  often  alighting  on  my  head  or 
shoulder. 

Most  beautiful  birds  they  were  become,  and  my  long-cherished 
dream  was  realized.  How  glad  they  were  when  I  came  from 
school  at  night,  and  opening  their  cage,  fed  them  from  my  hand, 
and  then  suflTered  them  to  fly  about  as  they  would.  Sometimes,  as 
they  grew  older,  they  would  fly  away  to  the  barn,  and  sit  on  the 
eaves  for  awhile,  with  the  wild  doves,  as  we  called  them.  But  at 
night  they  were  sure  to  return.  I  remember  precisely  how  they 
looked — not  alike,  for  one  was  a  beautiful  soft  brown,  and  the 
other  black  and  white.  One  evening  I  came  home  later  than 
usual — it  was  almost  twilight — and  when  I  opened  the  cage  they 
seemed  in  ecstasy.  I  sat  down  on  the  porch  to  feed  them,  but 
they  would  scarcely  eat  for  flying  hither  and  thither,  now  right 
against  my  face,  now  alighting  on  my  head,  and  now  on  my 
shoulder.  Suddenly,  as  I  played  with  them,  tossing  them  away 
from  my  hands  and  head,  one  of  them,  the  black  one,  darted  aside 
and  hid  in  the  foliage  of  an  oak  tree  that  grew  in  the  yard. 
There  was  a  rustling  of  the  leaves,  a  quick  cry,  and  my  beautiful 
pet  fell  whirling  and  fluttering  to  the  ground.  I  ran  and  caught 
it  up — its  bosom  was  speckled  with  blood,  its  wings  fell  loosely 
from  its  yet  warm  body  ;  but  before  I  reached  the  porch  it  was 
dead.  An  ugly  hawk  had  pounced  upon  and  killed  it.  I  buried 
it  in  great  sorrow,  beneath  a  cherry-tree  that  still  stands  for  its 
monument.  But  often  when  I  see  people  go  aside  from  what  seems 
their  natural  province,  I  think  of  my  poor  dove. 


THE   TEEE   AND   THE   BARK. 


113 


THE  TEEE  AND  THE  BxiEK. 


A  FABLE TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH,  BV  LAURA  LOVELL. 


YOUNG  elm  said  to  its  bark,  "  You  love  me,  I  know, 
p(  and  I  love  you  ;  but  you  hold  my  arms  too  tiglitly 
and  clasp  my  neck  too  closely.  Are  people  to  be 
-ir"  made  lin]ipy  by  force  ?  You  are  always  between  the 
world  and  myself.  I  am  passionately  fond  of  the  dew, 
and  when  I  have  spent  whole  days  in  waiting  for  it,  it  falls 
upon  you  first.  Am  I  a  tortoise  or  a  snail,  that  I  should  always 
live  in  a  shell  ?  A  pietty  way  of  showing  your  love,  indeed,  to 
keep  me  in  prison  all  the  time  !  I  am  stifling  ;  let  me  go,  I  pray 
you  !" 

''  Hush  !  God  punishes  the  ungrateful  by  granting  their  pray- 
ers," said  the  bark,  redoubling  her  pressure  ;  "  there  is  no  security 
without  some  restraint.  Wo  to  you,  if  you  leave  my  arms  !"  As 
she  spoke  thus,  a  child,  who  was  passing,  took  a  fancy  to  hack  the 
bark  with  his  knife,  and  while  the  protectress  fell  before  his  strokes, 
the  protected  experienced  a  secret  pleasure.  Surprise  after  surprise 
awaited  him.  "  Mine  are  the  rays  of  morning,"  said  he  ;  "  mine 
the  showers  of  heaven,  mine  the  soft  breeze.  What  a  happy  des- 
tiny it  is  to  live  and  die  free  !"  Alas  !  he  soon  changed  his  tone. 
Winter  came,  with  its  train  of  frosts  and  tempests,  and  amid  the 
general  mourning  of  nature,  the  bare  branches  of  the  half-dead  tree 
were  scattered  on  the  ground,  and,  covered  with  dust,  became  the 
food  of  worms. 

MORAL. 

In  creating  its  defenceless  beings,  heaven,  in  order  to  save  them 
from  a  host  of  evils,  gives  bark  to  the  elms  and  the  protection  of 
parents  to  infancy. 


V    \ 


} 


114 


THE   OEPHAN'S  HOME. 


THE  ORPHAN'S  HOME. 


"  Where  shall  I  find  a  home  ?" 

The  little  orphan  said, 
As  just  at  eve  she  turned  to  mine, 

Her  troublous  dreaming  head. 

"  Where  shall  I  find  a  home  f ' 
She  murmured  once  again, 

As  in  the  stilly  midnight  watch, 
She  tossed  with  restless  pain. 

"  Where  shall  I  find  a  home  ?" 
We  heard  her  say  at  dawn, 

And  bent  to  catch  another  word — 
Her  flutt'ring  breath  was  gone  ! 

Poor  child  !  for  many  days 

She'd  waudorcd  through  the  sleet, 
Her  hands  all  blue  and  pinched  with 
cold. 

Benumbed  her  tiny  foet. 

Poor  child  !  for  many  days 
She  scarce  had  tasted  bread. 

For  who  was  now  to  give  it  her  ? 
Her  parents  both  were  dead, 

"  Where  shall  I  find  a  home  ?" 

Fell  on  the  passer  by ; 
Oh  strange  !  that  not  one  heart  should 
melt, 

To  heed  the  orphan's  cry. 

While  walking  yester  eve, 

That  voice  enthrilled  mine  oar ; 

So  sadly  pitiful  in  tone, 

I  paused  the  plaint  to  hear. 

Yet  as  I  turned,  the  child 
Sank  helpless  on  the  ground, 

Her  pale  thin  lips  essayed  in  vain 
To  utter  forth  a  sound. 


T  gently  lifted  her. 

And  wrapt  her  fragile  form 
In  fur  of  mine  ;  for  she  full  long 

Had  felt  the  bitter  storm. 

I  bore  her  to  my  nest ; 

'Twas  but  a  pace  or  two ; 
Though  but  a  child  myself,  it  seemed 

I  with  my  burden  flew. 

My  mother  took  the  charge, 

And  laid  her  on  the  bed, 
And  then  as  mother  only  could, 

Some  words  of  comfort  said. 


'•  Where  is  my  home  T'  was  asked  ; 

"  'Tis  where  thy  parents  are  ;'' 
And  motlier  t<pld  her  'twas  above, 

Mure  high  than  highest  star. 

Ah  !  what  a  beam  of  hope 

Lit  up  that  lovely  face. 
As  mother  dearest,  soothing  spoke 

Of  heaven,  happy  place  ! 

Till  set  of  sun,  she  lay 
Awake  and  sweetly  calm. 

Then  came  her  last  delirament. 
When  vain  were  words  of  balm. 

Hot  fever  raged — sleep  came. 
Yet  'twas  a  troubled  sleep. 

To  see  both  mind  and  body  racked. 
It  would  have  made  you  weep. 

"  Where  shall  I  find  a  home  ?"' 
Those  words  alone  she  spoke. 

And  those  but  thrice,  and  then  so 
low. 
The  silence  just  was  broke. 


THE   BOY   THAT   WOULDN'T   GET   MAD. 


115 


Scarce  could  she  live  till  morn, 
So  feeble  was  her  frame, 

They  truly  said ;  for  at  the  light 
Went  out  life's  flickering  flame. 

They  laid  her  in  the  shroud  ; 
I  gazed  on  her  the  while  ; 


Sure  never  e'eu  on  cherub  face 
Beamed  there  a  sweeter  smile. 

That  smile,  so  calm,  so  pure, 
From  heaven  seemed  to  come, 

As  telling  us  who  watched  below, 
She  now  had  found  her  home. 


THE  BOY  THAT  WOULDN'T  GET  MAD. 

I  oxcE  heard  an  interesting  story  about  two  little  brothers. 
One  of  tbem  was  ten  years  old,  and  the  other  eight.  The  old- 
est boy  had,  within  a  few  months  past,  indulged  the  hope  that 
God  had  ffiven  him  a  new  heart.     He  thouo-ht  he  was  a  Chris- 

O  -3) 

tian,  that  he  loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  But  his  little  brother 
did  not  believe  that  his  heart  had  been  changed.  He  thought 
his  brother  was  no  more  a  Christian  than  he  had  always  been. 
He  said  he  could  not  see  any  ditference.  Yet  he  meant  to  try  him 
and  see  ;  for,  as  his  brother  now  appeared  more  sober  than  usual, 
and  was  more  willing  to  go  to  meeting  than  before,  he  did  not 
feel  quite  certain  that  he  was  not  a  Christian. 

Now,  how  do  you  think  this  little  boy,  eight  years  old,  under- 
took to  find  out  whether  his  brother  was  really  a  Christian  ? 
Why,  every  time  he  could  get  a  chance,  he  would  tread  on  his 
brother's .  toes,  kick  his  heels,  or  pinch  his  arms,  to  see  if  he 
wouldn't  get  mad,  as  he  used  to.  But  his  brother  bore  it  all  with 
meekness  and  good  nature,  without  an  angry  word  or  look.  This 
was  very  dift'erent  from  what  he  used  to  do.  He  had  before 
always  been  ready  to  take  re\'enge  on  the  spot  for  such  an  abuse. 

The  youngest  brother  was  quite  sure  that  he  could  not  do  so ; 
for  he  knew  he  would  get  mad  if  anybody  should  treat  him  so  un- 
kindly. He  soon  became  convinced  that  his  brother  was  a  Chris- 
tian, and  that  he  was  not.  He  became  very  anxious  about  the 
salvation  of  his  soul,  and  in  a  short  time  he  too  indulged  the 
hope  that  God  had  pardoned  his  sins,  and  given  him  a  new  heart. 


116 


A   LESSON    FKOM   TlIE    BEE-HIVE. 


A  LESSON  FEOM  THE  BEE-HIYE. 

"  Uncle  James,"  said  Annie  Endicott,  as  lie  walked  up  to  the 
spot  where  she  was  standing,  near  a  range  of  bee-hives  in  his  gar- 
den, "do  look  at  these  troublesome  tlies  !  They  keep  crowding 
about  the  hives,  and  trying  to  get  the  honey,  and  the  poor  bees 
have  to  drive  them  away  every  time  they  go  out  or  in.  I  wonder 
they  don't  get  out  of  patience,  and  sting  them  all  to  death." 

"  A  bee  rarely  uses  its  sting,  I  believe,"  said  her  uncle.  "  In- 
deed, I  have  heard  it  said  that  it  never  does  so,  unless  diiven  to 
the  utmost  extremity  ;  for  that,  so  surely  as  it  stings,  it  dies." 

"  Itself,  uncle  ?" 

"  So  I  have  been  told.  I  don't  know  certainly  whether  it  is  true 
of  bees  ;  but  I  have  often  thought  it  was  oipeophr 


A  SELFISH   PRAYER.  117 

"  Why,  Uncl«  -Tames,  what  do  you  mean  ?  People  don't  sting, 
do  they  ?" 

"  You  are  a  v<iry  fortunate  little  girl  if  you  have  never  felt  that 
they  do.     /have  been  stung  a  good  many  times  in  my  life." 

"Oh!  I  know  now  what  you  mean,"  said  Annie,  laughing. 
"  But  they  didn't  die  of  it,  did  they  ?  I  never  heard  of  anybody 
that  did." 

"  It  is  the  lieart  that  dies,  Annie — a  far  worse  death  than  that 
of  the  body.  Let  me  tell  you,"  he  added,  as  he  led  her  slowly 
along  the  path,  "  how  our  hearts,  full  of  action  and  living  impulses, 
are  like,  as  it  seems  to  me,  the  hives  of  bees  you  have  been  watch- 
ing. We  have  within  us  a  crowd  of  thoughts  and  feelings,  going 
forth  continually  into  life  and  action  ;  and,  according  to  the  pur- 
poses with  which  tliey  go,  they  come  back  laden  with  rich  honey 
to  lay  up  for  us,  or  they  wander  away  idly,  and  are  lost ;  or,  worse 
than  all,  w^e  pervert  them  from  a  right  use,  and  turn  them  to  the 
injury  of  others,  like  the  stinging  bees,  and  then,  like  the  bees,  they 
die.     Is  it  not  so,  Aiinie  ?" 

Annie  was  thoughtful  now  ;  and,  instead  of  making  her  usual 
quick  reply,  she  only  looked  up  gravely  in  her  uncle's  face. 

"  Every  time  we  indulge  a  harsh,  censorious  temper,  some  gentle 
aftection,  some  loving  thought  we  might  have  had  instead  dies 
out  wathin  us.  For  ev^ery  evil  impulse  we  act  out,  we  lose  a  good 
one ;  till  the  little  honey-gatherers  of  the  heart,  one  by  one,  have 
perished,  and  leave  us  at  last,  empty  and  desolate.  Let  us  learn 
wi^lom  of  the  bee,  Annie,  to  whom  God  has  given  an  instinct 
tb?-t  tells  it,  '  So  surely  as  it  stings,  it  dies.'  " 


A  Queer  Prayer. — A  little  boy  had  his  first  pocket-knife,  and 
for  several  days  used  it  himself,  and  extended  the  privilege  of  the  oc- 
casional use  of  his  treasure  to  his  little  playmates.  One  evening  he 
was  kneeling  at  his  mother's  knee,  saying  his  customary  piayer, 
which  he  closed  up  in  these  words  : — "And  j^lease  God,  give  little 
Jiinmy  Bailey  a  knife  of  his  own,  so  he  won't  want  to  borrow  mine 
all  the  time." 


118 


A  MAN  BUEIED  IN  A  WELL. 


A  MAN  BURIED  IN  A  WELL. 


-^^^^ — ,XZ- 

ARLY  in  September,  183G,  as  Dufevel,  one  of  the  laborers 
emijloyed  in  sinking  a  well  at  a  place  near  Lyons,  in 
France,  was  about  to  descend  in  order  to  begin  his 
woi'k,  one  of  his  companions  called  out  to  him  not  to  go 
down,  as  the  ground  was  giving  way,  and  threatened  to  fall 
in.  Dufavel,  however,  did  not  profit  by  the  warning,  but 
exclaiming,  "I  shall  have  abundance  of  time  to  go  down  for  my 
basket  first,"  he  entered  the  well,  which  was  sixty-two  feet  in  depth. 
When  about  half  way  down,  he  heard  some  large  stones  falling  ; 
but  he  nevertheless  continued  his  descent,  and  reached  the  bot- 
tom in  safety.  After  placing  two  pieces  of  plank  in  his  basket, 
he  was  preparing  to  reascend,  when  he  suddenly  heard  a  crashing 
sound  above  his  head,  and,  looking  up,  he  saw  five  of  the  side- 
supports  of  the  well  breaking  at  once.  Greatly  alarmed,  he  shouted 
for  assistance  as  loudly  as  he  was  able  ;  but  the  next  moment  a 
large  mass  of  the  sandy  soil  fell  upon  him,  i)recluding  the  possi- 
bility of  his  escape.  By  a  singular  good  fortune,  the  broken  sup- 
ports fell  together  in  such  a  manner,  that  they  formed  a  species 
of  arch  over  his  head,  and  prevented  the  sand  from  pouiing  down, 
which  must  have  smothered  him  at  once.  To  all  appearances, 
however,  he  was  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  doomed 
to  perish  by  suffocation  or  famine.  He  had  a  wife  and  child,  who 
now  came  into  his  mind  ;  and  the  thought  of  them  made  him 
feel  still  more  bitterly  his  imprudent  obstinacy  in  descending  into 
the  well,  after  beino;  warned  of  the  danwr  to  which  he  was  ex- 
posing  himself. 

But  although  Dufavel  regretted  the  past,  and  feared  for  the  fu- 
ture, he  did  not  give  way  to  despair.  Calm  and  self-possessed,  he 
raised  his  heart  in  prayer  to  God,  and  adopted  eveiy^  precaution 
in  his  power  to  prolong  his  life.  His  basket  was  fastened  to  the 
cord  by  which  he  had  descended  ;  and  when  his  comrades  above 


A  MAN  BUfllED  IN  A  WELL.  119 


began  to  pull  tlie  rope,  in  the  hope  of  drawing-  him  to  the  surface, 
he  observed  that,  in  their  vain  efforts,  they  were  causing  his  bas- 
ket to  strike  against  the  broken  planks  above  him,  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  bring  downi  stones  and  other  things.  He  therefore  cut 
the  rope  with  his  knife — which  he  had  no  sooner  done,  than  it 
was  drawn  up  by  those  at  the  top  of  the  well  ;  and,  when  his 
friends  saw  the  rope  so  cut,  they  knew  that  he  must  be  alive,  and 
determined  to  make  every  exertion  to  save  him. 

The  hole  made  by  the  passage  of  this  rope  through  the  sand 
that  had  fallen  in,  was  of  the  greatest  use  to  Dufavel  :  through  it 
he  received  a  supply  of  fresh  air,  and  after  a  while,  his  friends  con- 
trived to  convey  food  to  him,  and  even  to  speak  to  him.  Of 
course  he  was  in  utter  darkness  ;  but  he  was  enabled,  in  a  curious 
manner,  to  keep  a  reckoning  of  time.  A  large  fly  was  shut  up 
Avith  him,  and  kept  him  company  all  the  time  he  remained  there. 
When  he  heard  it  buzzing  about,  he  knew  that  it  w^as  day  ;  and 
-when  the  fly  was  silent,  he  knew  that  it  was  night.  The  fly 
boarded  as  well  as  lodged  with  him  ;  he  was  careful  as  he  could 
be  not  to  interrupt  it  while  taking  its  share  of  his  meal ;  when 
he  touched  it,  it  would  fly  away,  buzzing  as  if  offended,  but  soon 
return  again.  He  often  said  afterwards,  that  the  company  of  this 
fly  had  been  a  great  consolation  to  him. 

More  skilful  persons  than  the  poor  laborers  of  the  village  w^ere 
soon  engaged  in  the  attempt  to  liberate  Dufavel.  The  municipal 
authorities  of  Lyons  procured  the  assistance  of  a  band  of  military 
miners,  who,  under  the  direction  of  experienced  officers,  began  to 
form  a  subterranean  passage,  for  the  purpose  of  relieving  him. 
Prayers  for  his  safety  were  daily  offered  up  in  the  churches  of 
Lyons,  and  the  most  intense  interest  prevailed  ;  it  was  found  ne- 
cessary to  erect  a  barricade,  and  station  a  guard  of  soldiers  around 
the  scene  of  the  accident,  to  keep  oft"  the  flocking  crowd  from  the 
neighborhood,  all  eager  to  obtain  news,  and  see  what  was  being- 
done. 

The  cavity  at  the  bottom  of  the  well,  over  which  the  Avooden 
rafters  had  so  providentially  formed  a  sort  of  roof,  w\as  at  first 
about  seven  feet  in  heisfht ;  but  owino-  to  the  sand  constantlv  run- 
ning  through  and  pressing  down  the  roof  from  above,  by  the  third 


120  A  MAN  BURIED  IN  A  WELL. 

day  the  space  became  so  small,  that  the  poor  man  could  no  longer 
stand,  or  even  sit  upright,  but  was  crushed  upon  the  ground  in  a 
peculiarly  painful  manner,  his  legs  doubled  under  him,  and  his 
head  pressed  on  one  side  against  his  left  shoulder.  His  arms, 
however,  were  free,  and  he  used  his  knife  to  cut  away  such  parts 
of  the  wood-work  as  particularly  incommoded  him,  and  to  widen 
the  hole  the  passage  of  the  rope  had  made.  Through  this  hole, 
bj  means  of  a  small  bottle,  sou])  and  wine  were  let  down  to  him, 
and,  after  a  few  days,  what  was  quite  as  important,  a  narrow  bag 
to  receive  and  bring  to  the  surface  the  constantly  accumulating 
sand,  which  must  soon  have  smothered  him,  if  this  means  of  re- 
moving it  had  not  been  devised,  and  he  had  not  had  strength  and 
energy  for  such  a  painful  labor  as  the  constantly  filling  and  i-efilling 
the  bag  soon  became.  Of  course  any  pressure  from  above  would 
have  forced  in  the  temporary  roof,  so  that  nothing  could  be  at- 
tempted in  the  way  of  removing  the  mass  of  sand  that  had  fallen 
in.  They  dared  not  to  touch  the  surface  above,  but  they  con- 
trived, by  means  of  a  tube,  to  speak  to  him.  A  cousin  of  his, 
himself  a  well-digger,  was  let  down  for  this  pur]>ose.  This  man 
spoke  to  Dufavel,  and  assured  him  the  miners  were  making  pro- 
gress, and  would  soon  reach  him  :  he  inquired  after  his  wife  and 
child,  and  charged  his  cousin  to  toll  her  for  him,  to  be  of  good 
cheer,  and  not  lose  heart.  At  this  time  he  had  been  a  week  in  the 
well. 

Day  succeeded  day,  and  still  the  expectations  of  the  miners 
were  deceived.  They  worked  night  and  day ;  but  such  was  the 
treacherous  nature  of  the  soil,  that  neither  pickaxe  nor  shovel 
could  be  used  :  the  foremost  miner  worked  upon  his  knees,  in- 
serting cautiously  a  flat  piece  of  wood  into  the  ground,  and  after- 
ward gathering  up  with  his  hands,  and  passing  to  those  behind 
him,  the  sand  which  he  thus  disturbed.  On  the  twelfth  day  of  his 
imprisonment,  they  calculated  they  were  only  twelve  inches  from 
him,  and  yet  it  took  them  two  days  longer  before  they  were  able 
to  reach  him.  Every  minute  the  ground  was  giving  way,  and  it 
sometimes  took  them  many  hours  to  repair  the  damage  that  a 
single  moment  had  produced.  Besides,  they  felt  it  necessary  to 
proceed  with  the  utmost  caution,  when  they  approached  Dufavel ; 


•.#* 


EXTfiAOPvDIXAEY  MEMORl'.  121 


for  there  was  great  reason  to  fear,  Avhenever  an  opening  was  made 
the  mass  of  sand  above  bis  bead  would  fall  down  and  suffocate 
bira.  At  lengtb,  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  Friday, 
September  16tb,  they  made  a  small  opening  into  the  well,  just 
above  bis  shoulders.  The  poor  man  shouted  for  joy,  and  was 
able  with  bis  knife  to  assist  in  extricating  himself.  He  was  care- 
fully conveyed  along  the  horizontal  gallery,  and  wrapped  in  blan- 
kets before  he  was  drawn  up  into  the  open  air.  Several  medical 
men  were  in  attendance,  and  one  of  them  had  him  conveyed  to  his 
house,  and  put  to  bed. 

In  the  evening,  he  was  so  well,  that  the  doctor  consented  to  his 
being  conveyed  to  his  own  home;  and  he  was  accordingly  trans- 
ported thither  in  a  litter,  attended  by  a  great  concourse  of  happy 
and  thankful  spectators. 


EXTEAOEDINAKY  MEMORY. 

Seneca  says  of  himself,  that  by  the  mere  eflbrts  of  his  natural 
memory,  he  was  able  to  repeat  2,000  words  upon  once  hearing  them, 
each  in  its  order,  though  they  had  no  dependence  or  connection 
upon  each  other.  After  which,  he  mentioned  a  friend  of  his,  Por- 
tias Latro,  who  retained  in  his  memory  all  the  declamations  he  had 
ever  spoken,  and  never  found  his  memory  fail  him,  even  in  a  single 
word.  He  also  mentions  Cyneas,  ambassador  to  the  Romans  from 
King  Pyrrhus,  who  in  one  day  had  so  well  learned  the  names  of  his 
spectators,  that  the  next  day  he  saluted  the  whole  senate,  and  all 
the  populace  assembled,  each  by  his  name.  Pliny  says  that  Cyrus 
knew  every  soldier  in  his  army  by  name  ;  and  L.  Scipio,  all  the 
people  of  Rome.  Herr  von  Xieublin,  the  celebrated  German  scholar, 
was  once  a  clerk  in  the  bank  of  Copenhagen.  In  that  capacity  he 
gave  proof  of  the  miraculous  power  of  his  memory,  by  restoring, 
from  recollection  alone,  the  whole  contents  of  a  leaf  in  the  bank 
ledger,  which  had  been  lost  by  fraud  or  accident. 

VOL.  IV.  6  SR 


122 


THE  YOUNG  WOOD-GATHEKEES. 


THE  YOUNG  WOOD-GATHERERS. 


Iff 


NE  cold  day  in  the  month  of  December,  1829,  two. 
poor  children,  thin  and  pale,  half  clad  in  rags, 
issued  from  a  cottage  situated  on  the  vei-ge  of 
the  forest  of  Sancy,  in  France.     The  trees  were  all  strip-, 
ped  of  their  leaves ;  the  wind  blew  with  fury.     It  was 
'      only  seven  in  the  morning,  scarcely  day-break. 
Nicholas  and  Frank,  the  two  poor  little  wood-gatherers,  walked 
rapidly  toward  the  centre  of  the  forest.     Their  feet  were  ill  pro- 
tected by  the  old  shoes  they  wore.     Coarse  linen  trousers,  a  blouse, 
^d  a  bonnet  of  rabbit-skin,  completed  their  attire.  ^ 

When  they  had  walked  a  considerable  distance,  they  stopped  at 
a  place  where  several  roads  met.     '*  Stop  Frank,"  said  Nichohis  ; 
"take  this   rope,  and  bind  up  in  it  as  much  dead  wood  as  you 
can  gather  together." 
"  Yes,  brother." 

"  When  you  have  gathered  enough,  you  can  meet  me  at  the 
entrance  to  the  forest." 

The  two  brothers  then  separated,  and  took  dift'erent  roads. 
They  had  soon  gathered  sticks  enough  to  make  a  hea\'y  load 
apiece.  Bending  under  their  several  burdens,  they  shortly  after 
met  at  the  place  appointed. 

"  Come  on,  Nicholas,"  said  Frank  ;  "  let  us  make  haste  ;  for 
while  we  loiter  here,  mother  is  sufiering  from  the  cold." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  the  wind  blows  from  all  sides  of  the  hut,  and  the 
snow  falls  on  the  straw  where  we  slept  last  night." 

"  Ah  !  httle  robbers !  I  have  caught  you  again  !"  suddenly 
shouted  a  rough  voice  close  at  hand. 

The  two  boys,  frightened,  let  their  loads  fall  from  oflf  their 
backs,  and  threw  themselves  at  the  feet  of  a  man  who  now  pre- 


THE    WOOD-GATHKREKS. 


"^ 


THE  YOUNG  WOOD-GATHERERS.  125 

sented  himself.  He  was  a  stiff,  gruff-looking  fellow,  of  repulsive 
voice  and  manner  ;  and  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  two  trembling 
boys,  with  a  fierce  expression.  He  was  dressed  as  a  game-keeper, 
and  carried  a  gun  under  his  arm. 

"  Little  good-for-naughts  !"  said  he ;  "  isn't  this  the  second 
time  I  have  caught  you  ?" 

"  Pardon,  pardon,  Mr.  Sylvester,"  cried  the  two  boys,  weeping. 

"  Ah  !  do  you  suppose  you  are  to  be  allowed  to  rob  the  mar- 
quis of  his  wood  in  this  way  ?  But  we  shall  see — we  shall 
see  !" 

"  But  it  is  dead  wood  ;  and  when  it  isn't  gathered,  it  only  rots 
apon  the  ground,  and  it  is  of  no  use  to  anybody." 

"  Come,  come,  Mr.  Logician,  take  up  your  plunder,  and  follow 
me."       ' 

"  Follow  you  ?  and— where  ?" 

"  To  prison,  little  miscreants  !" 

"  To  prison  ?     O  good  sir  !  in  pity  spare  us  I" 

"  No,  I  tell  you." 

"  But  our  mother  may  die  of  cold.  She  has  only  us  in  the 
world  to  help  her  ;  and,  if  you  put  us  in  prison,  what  will  she 
do?" 

"  It's  all  the  same  to  me." 

"  Oh  !  you  have  neither  heart  nor  soul  in  you,"  said  one  of 
ihe  bovs,  almost  desperate ;  "  well  may  they  call  you  Sylvester 
the  Woip 

"  Good  !  good  !  I  perform  my  duty,  and  don't  bother  myself 
about  anything  else." 

"  Listen,  Mr.  Sylvester,"  said  Nicholas ;  "  I  am  bigger  and 
stronger  than  my  brother,  and  I  gathered  more  of  the  dead  wood 
than  he  did  ;  I  am,  therefore,  more  guilty  :  well,  punish  me  as 
you  will ;  punish  me  for  both  of  us,  but  send  my  brother  back  to 
the  cott<ige." 

"  Nay,  listen  to  me,  good  sir,"  cried  Frank  ;  "  it  is  I  whom  you 
must  put  in  prison.  Nicholas  is  stronger  than  I,  and  his  labor 
is  more  useful  to  our  mother." 

"  Come,  no  more  talking,"  said  Sylvester  ;  "  you  needn't  be  jeal- 
ous— you  must  both  go." 


126  THE   YOUNG  WOOD-GATHERERS. 

"  M}'^  poor  mother,"  said  Frank,  sobbing. 

The  two  boys  took  up  their  burdens,  and  followed  the  heartless 
gamekeeper.  As  they  passed  before  the  chateau  of  the  marquis, 
Nicholas  said  to  Sylvester,  "  Before  going  to  prison,  I  wish  to  see 
the  marquis  himself." 

"  In  good  time,"  said  Sylvester  ;  "  here  he  comes." 

In  fact,  the  Marquis  de  Sancy  was  advancing  to  meet  them. 
He  was  a  man  of  about  sixty,  of  good  figure,  a  noble-looking  gen- 
tleman. His  white  hairs  fell  about  his  cheeks ;  and  his  blue 
eyes,  full  of  sweetness  and  kindly  expression,  inspired  confidence 
in  those  who  looked  him  in  the  face. 

"  Well,  Sylvester,"  said  the  marquis  ;  "  what  are  you  going  to 
do  with  these  children  ?" 

"  My  lord,  they  are  little  robbers,  whom  I  have  caught  for  the 
second  time  stealing  wood." 

The  two  brothers  stood  crying  bitterly. 

"  You  know  this  wood  does  not  belong  to  you,"  said  the  mar- 
quis. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Frank. 

"  Then  you  are  very  blamable  indeed  ;  for,  when  you  have  been 
already  forbidden  to  take  it,  you  ought  not  to  have  done  so." 

"  We  must  then  have  lain  down  and  died  of  cold,"  said  Nicho- 
las, sadly. 

"  How,  child  !  what  do  you  say  ?"  asked  the  marquis,  with 
seeming  interest. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  shall  tell  you  the  truth,  and  you  can  judge  whether 
we  deserve  to  be  punished  or  not.  Our  father  was  a  woodman  : 
kept  down  by  hard  work  and  poverty,  he  could  scaicely  provide 
for  his  family.  One  day  they  brought  him  home  dying.  He  had 
been  crushed  by  the  fall  of  a  tree  which  he  had  felled.  After  many 
months  of  cruel  suliering,  he  died;  and  Ave  were  left  alone,  my 
brother  and  I,  with  my  dear  mother,  who  is  old  and  infirm.  A 
poor  hut,  built  on  the  sod,  covered  with  bark ;  a  little  potato  field  ; 
such  is  all  that  we  possess.  In  summer,  Frank  and  I  split  wood 
in  the  forest,  or  we  help  the  peasants  with  their  work  :  we  can 
thus  earn  a  little  money,  wdiich  helps  our  mother  to  live.  But  in 
■winter,  sir,  ah !  then  we  are  very  miserable^  indeed.     The  snow 


J 


THE   YOUNG  WOOD-GATHERERS.  127 

severs  the  ground  ;  the  wind  shakes  our  mean  Httle  dwelhng ;  the 
rain  penetrates  it  everywhere,  and  freezes  on  our  very  clothes.  We 
who  are  young  can  bear  all  that ;  but  our  mother,  sir  !  our  poor 
[nother !  oh  !  when  we  see  her  pale,  cold,  almost  perished,  trying 
in  vain  to  keep  warm  her  freezing  limbs,  our  heart  is  torn,  and  tears 
run  from  our  eyes.  Then  we  sally  forth  to  hide  our  grief:  the 
forest  is  before  us  ;  the  earth  is  strewn  with  branches  wdiicli  the 
wind  has  blown  down  :  a  few  of  these  useless  remnants  would 
ft'arm  our  mother.  Are  we  to  leave  her  to  die,  when  we  can  so 
easily  save  her  ?  There,  marquis,  is  the  whole  truth  ;  and  now 
say  if  we  are  guilty." 

"  Yes,  my  little  fellows,"  replied  the  marquis,  "  inasmuch  as  you 
bave  taken  what  did  not  belong  to  you.  But  you  are  good  and 
dutiful  children,  and  it  would  be  a  very  cruel  act  indeed  to  punish 
pou.  Go  ;  I  forgive  you.  When  you  are  cold,  go  into  the  forest 
ind  gather  what  sticks  you  want :  I  permit  you.  You  hear,  Syl- 
i^ester  ?"  addressing  the  garae-keeper. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  he,  touching  his  cap. 

"  And  now,  since  these  children  must  be  tired  with  the  long 
svalk  you  have  given  them,  take  a  cart,  and  carry  the  wood  to  the 
2abin  of  their  mother." 

"  Oh  !  thanks,  thanks,  good,  kind  sir  !  May  heaven  protect  you 
for  your  pity  to  the  unfortunate  !"  cried  the  two  children,  taking 
leave  of  their  benefactor,  with  tears  in  their  eyes. 

The  winter  of  1829-30  was  terrible.  The  cold  reached  to  an  ex- 
traordinary degree,  and  was  exceedingly  long  continued.  The  most 
rapid  rivers  were  covered  with  ice  ;  and  carriages,  no  matter  what 
their  weight,  could  pass  over  them  as  on  a  highway.  Horses 
and  beasts  were  frozen  to  death  in  their  stalls  ;  men  fell  lifeless  on 
the  hard  earth ;  wild  beasts  issued  from  their  lairs,  and  came  into 
the  villages,  into  the  stables,  and  even  into  the  houses  themselves, 
to  allay  the  Imnger  and  thirst  which  tortured  them.  In  short, 
misery  and  distress  had  reached  their  height.  Thanks  to  the  kind- 
ness of  the  Marquis  de  Sancy,  his  proteges  of  the  forest  were  en- 
abled to  support  the  rigors  of  the  season.  A  little  nouse,  soudly 
constructed  of  stone,  replaced  the  little  cabin  in  which  they  had 
before  dwelt.     The  marquis  gave  them  some  few  articles  of  furni- 


128  THE   YOUNG   WOOD-GATHERERS. 

ture,  added  a  bit  to  their  field,  and  thus  gave  them  comparative 
ease  and  comfort,  in  place  of  misery  and  despair. 

AVinter  continued  ;  but  the  little  wood-gatherers  bore  it  without 
complaint.  Their  mother,  seated  beside  a  good  fire,  could  turn 
her  wheel,  and  spin  for  the  good  marquis.  In  the  day-time  the 
boys  worked  at  making  hedge,  wherewith  to  enclose  their  little 
field  ;  and  in  the  evening  they  worked  Nvillow  baskets,  and  made 
cages,  which  they  went  to  sell  on  the  day  following  in  the  neigh- 
boring town.  Sometimes  they  returnM  home  late  ;  and  they  often 
trembled  with  fear  at  hearing  the  howling  of  wolves  in  the  forest. 

One  night,  when  they  were  on  their  way  home  from  the  town 
where  they  had  been  selling  their  little  wares,  as  they  passed  along 
one  of  the  by-paths  of  the  forest,  a  cry  of  distress  reached  their  ear. 

"  It  is  the  voice  of  the  marquis  !"  exclaimed  Frank. 

"  Let  us  run  this  way,"  cried  Nicholas. 

They  hastened  toward  the  place  from  whence  they  had  thought 
proceeded  the  voice  of  their  benefactor.  They  carried  in  their 
hands  a  little  sharp  hatchet,  with  which  they  were  wont  to  cut 
wood.  They  always  carried  it  with  them  on  those  nights  when 
they  were  likely  to  be  late  in  reaching  home. 

In  a  few  minutes,  they  reached  a  man  struggling  with  a  wolf 
of  enormous  size.  It  was  indeed  their  friend  the  mnrquis.  The 
wolf  had  thrown  itself  u}x>n  him,  torn  him  with  its  horrid  teeth, 
and,  after  a  terrible  struggle  with  his  adversary,  the  marquis  was 
on  the  point  of  falling  its  victim.  Nicholas  rushed  at  the  ferocious 
brute,  and,  fetching  a  blow  with  his  axe,  cut  ofi*  one  of  his  paws. 
The  wolf,  furious  at  his  new  enemy,  turned  upon  him  to  avenge 
his  wound.  He  leaped  upon  Nicholas.  Frank  threw  liimself 
on  the  wolf's  back,  and  bound  his  arms  tight  about  its  neck  to 
strangle  it.  The  wolf  fell  to  the  ground,  Nicholas  under  him  :  his 
hatchet  fell  from  his  hands  ;  but  the  marquis,  snatching  it  up, 
watched  his  opportunity  of  striking  the  beast  without  wounding  the 
children,  and  by  a  well-aimed  blow  cleft  the  wolf's  head. 

"  Ah  !  my  children,"  exclaimed  the  marquis,  on  recognizing  his 
young  defenders  ;  "  it  is  to  you,  then,  that  I  owe  my  life  !" 

"  Sir,  you  have  had  pity  on  our  misfortunes  ;  you  have  saved 
our  poor  mother's  life ;  we  owe  everything  to  you." 


A   BAD   PRECEDENT.  129 


"  You  see,  Sylvester,"  observed  the  marquis  to  the  game-keeper,. 
Avho  ran  up  at  this  moment, — "  you  see  how  those  two  noble 
youths  have  borne  themselves  in  saving  my  life.  Instead  of  being 
harsh  and  cruel  toward  the  unfortunate,  be  kind,  generous,  chari- 
table ;  and  bethink  yourself  always,  that,  even  though  you  may 
not  do  a  kindness  out  of  love  of  virtue,  it  is  well  to  do  it  even 
out  of  selfish  motives  ;  for  we  may  be  indebted  for  our  life  and 
safety  to  those  who  are  weaker  and  smaller  than  ourselves.  Even 
the  marquis,  you  see,  may  come  in  the  little  peasants'  way,  and 
owe  his  life  to  them,  as  I  do  now." 


A  BAD  PEECEDENT. 


There  are  a  great  many  rather  funny  stories  told  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  doctors — more,  perhaps,  than  these  worthy  people 
deserve.  The  Portsmouth  Journal  vouches  for  the  truth  of  the 
following.  "  We  once  had  residing  here,"  the  editor  says,  "  a  me- 
chanic of  some  eminence  in  Iiis  profession,  and  also  of  some  skill 
in  farriery,  so  much  so  that  he  acquired  the  title  of  doctor.  Al- 
though skilled  in  the  diseases  of  horses,  he  made  no  pretensions  to 
cure  all  the  diseases  of  the  human  system  ;  and  so  an  account 
current  was  opened  with  one  of  our  regular  physicians  of  the  day, 
to  attend  to  the  medical  wants  of  his  family,  while  he  took  good 
care  of  the  diseases  of  the  physician's  horses.  In  time  of  settle- 
ment, the  physician,  after  running  over  the  items  in  the  forrier's 
bill,  remarked,  '  I  don't  see  any  charge  for  the  attendance  on 
that  sick  colt — you  must  be  more  careful  of  omitting  charges." 
'  0  sir,  that  colt  died,  you  know  ;  so  I  thought  I  would  make  no 
charge  for  services.'  '  My  good  man,  take  your  bill,  and  charge 
in  full.  That  circumstance  should  never  be  brought  into  con- 
sideration. Such  a  precedent  would  never  do  for  us  doctors.' 
The  charge  for  curing  the  colt  till  he  died  was  then  made,  the  bill 
settled,  and  a  bad  precedent  prevented." 

VOL.  IV.  6*  SK 


130 


MY  PET   ANTS. 


^^^^^S" 


MY  PET  ANTS. 

I  MUST  tell  you  something  about  a  family  of  ants  which  I  once 
had  under  my  charge  for  some  months.  A  family  of  ants,  please 
to  take  notice,  not  aunts.  Some  of  my  aunts  are  worth  talking 
about,  doubtless  ;  but  it  would  be  a  little  out  of  place,  methinks, 
to  speak  of  them  in  this  volume. 

These  ants  were  captured  early  in  the  winter  of  1851,  and  their 
capture  was  on  this  wise  :  one  day  my  man  John,  who  was  sawing 
and  splitting  some  hickory  wood  for  my  study  fire,  came  into  my 
room,  cap  in  hand,  and  begged  me  to  go  with  him  to  the  wood- 
pile, as  he  had  something  wonderful  to  show  me.  John  knew  well 
enough  that  I  am  always  wide  awake  when  there  is  anything  cu- 
rious to  be  seen.  He  thought  I  would  not  need  any  urging  ;  and 
he  was  right.  I  hastened  to  the  pile  of  wood,  where  I  saw  a  sight 
worth  going  miles  to  see.  A  great  portion  of  the  entire  load  of 
wood,  though  in  other  respects  perfectly  sound,  was  full  of  chan- 
nels, and  bored  lengthwise  of  the  tree,  and  hundreds,  perhaps  I  may 
say  thousands,  of  large  black  ants  were  packed  away  in  these 
channels.  Strange  as  it  may  seem  to  you,  these  creatures  had 
bored  the  holes  in  the  wood  with  their  forceps.     Some  of  the 


MY   PET   ANTS.  131 


channels  ran  in  nearly  a  straight  direction,  two  or  three  feet  in 
length.  I  need  hardly  tell  you  that  the  ants  were  in  a  torpid 
state.  They  were  not  dead,  though  they  seemed  lifeless.  They 
were  enjoying  their  winters  nap  ;  for  ants  you  know,  in  our  lati- 
tudes at  least,  are  only  active  during  the  warm  months.  At  the 
approach  of  cold  weather,  they  go  into  a  dormant  or  torpid  state, 
in  which,  if  they  are  let  alone,  they  remain  until  they  feel  the  warm 
heat  of  spring.  It  was  a  pity  to  disturb  such  a  quiet  slumber,  was 
it  not  ?  However,  there  was  no  helping  the  matter,  and  I  am  not 
perfectly  sure  but  I  secretly  rejoiced  that  these  black  ants  had  acci- 
dentally been  thrown  in  my  way,  at  such  an  interesting  epoch  in 
their  history.  At  all  events,  I  determined  to  profit  by  the  acci- 
dent, to  capture  the  ants,  to  give  them  a  home  in  my  study,  and  to 
make  them  pay  for  their  board  and  lodg-ing,  by  such  exhibitions  of 
their  skill  as  they  chose  to  afford.  As  the  wood  was  sawed  and 
split,  great  numbers  of  these  sleepy  fellows  were  turned  out  of  their 
snug  winter  quarters,  and  scattered  on  the  side-walk.  I  gathered 
up  a  handful  of  them,  and  carried  thera  into  my  room.  I  did  not 
stop  to  count  them  ;  but  I  presume  there  were  as  many  as  fifty  or 
sixty.  I  knew  very  well,  that  unless  I  shut  them  up,  they  would 
soon  feel  the  heat  of  the  stove,  and  be  running  merrily  about  the 
room.  So  I  put  them  into  a  large,  wide-mouthed  bottle,  so  clear 
that  I  could  easily  see  through  it,  and  watch  all  their  motions.  It 
was  about  an  hour,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect,  before  they  waked 
up,  and  showed  signs  of  activity.  When  they  found  themselves 
actually  in  the  land  of  the  living  again,  they  behaved  something 
as  I  should  think  a  cat  w^ould  behave,  when  suddenly  and  unexpect- 
edly transported  to  a  strange  garret.  You  have  read  Washington 
Irving's  story  of  Rip  Van  Winkle,  haven't  you  ?  That  chap,  ac- 
cording to  his  historian  (who,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  indulges 
in  a  little  romance  in  making  up  his  story ;  but  let  that 
pass,)  slept  a  good  many  years,  and  when  at  last  he  rubbed 
his  eyes  open  again,  he  found,  as  might  be  expected,  every- 
thing strange  around  him.  In  this  respect,  if  in  no  other,  my 
ants'  condition  very  much  resembled  that  of  Rip  Van  Winkle. 
Whether  they  really  were  astonished  at  the  plight  in  which  they 
found  themselves,  like  Washington  Irving's  hero,  I  cannot  tell. 


132  MY   PET  ANTS. 


They  were  certainly,  as  far  as  I  could  discover,  quite  dumb  on  the 
occasion.  Whether  they  were  struck  dumb  with  astonishment  or 
otherwise,  I  leave  you  to  infer.  But  if  I  may  judge  of  what  was 
passing  in  those  ants'  minds,  while  they  were  yawning  and  getting 
themselves  awake,  I  should  conclude,  without  hesitation,  that  their 
brains  were  racked  by  such  puzzling  thoughts  as  these  :  "  What 
does  all  this  mean  ?  Am  I  alive  or  not  ?  How  came  I  here  ? 
Where  was  I  last  ?  Where  am  I  now  ?  Didn't  I  go  to  sleep  in 
the  heart  of  a  tall  hickory  tree  ?  and  do  you  call  this  the  heart  of 
a  hickory  tree  ?  Is  it  spring  ?  If  it  is,  I  must  have  had  a  miser- 
ably short  nap.  If  it  is  not,  then  how  came  I  to  wake  up  ?  Who 
knows  ?  Why  am  I  cooped  up  here,  in  this  style  ?  Why,  I  can't 
get  out.  I  can  see  out  plainly  enough  ;  but  when  I  try  to  go  out, 
that  is  quite  another  matter.  Well,  well !  if  this  don't  beat  all  the 
mysteries  I  ever  heard  of." 

I  soon  found  that  the  cage  in  which  I  put  my  ants  was  an  un- 
comfortable one  for  them.  When  I  closed  the  mouth  of  the 
bottle — as  I  was  forced  to  do,  or  consent  to  have  them  run  away 
and  leave  me — they  did  not  seem  to  like  it  at  all.  So  I  contrived 
another  house  for  them — one  on  a  grander  scale.  I  got  a  large 
globe  glass,  such  as  is  used  to  keep  gold  fish  in,  and  fitted  up  that 
for  their  home.  The  way  I  managed  was  tiiis  :  in  the  first  place, 
I  sprinkled  some  earth  in  the  bottom  of  the  globe  ;  then  I  emptied 
the  ants  out  of  the  bottle  into  the  globe,  and  closed  the  mouth  of 
the  globe,  so  that  my  prisoners  could  not  escape  ;  but  still  so  that 
they  could  always  have  a  supply  of  fresh  air  inside.  Next,  I  filled 
the  bottle  quite  full  of  moist,  though  not  very  wet  earth,  packing  it 
in  as  closely  and  firmly  as  I  could.  This  bottle,  thus  filled  with 
earth,  I  placed  inside  the  globe,  and  laid  it  down  on  its  side. 

As  I  supposed,  my  black  friends,  after  getting  together,  and  re- 
solving themselves  into  a  committee  of  ways  and  means,  concluded 
to  dig  themselves  a  new  home  in  the  bottle.  I  would  have  given 
a  good  deal  to  know  whether,  at  the  time  they  commenced  build- 
ing, they  intended  to  go  about  their  accustomed  spring's  work,  or 
whether  it  was  simply  their  intention  to  provide  a  good  place  for 
another  long,  cosy  nap.  But  they  never  told  me  how  that  was, 
and  I  confess  myself,  at  this  moment,  profoundly  ignorant  in  re- 


MY   PET  ANTS.  133 


spect  to  the  matter.  Of  one  thing,  nevertheless,  I  am  certain  :  I 
know  that  they  consulted  together,  before  they  proceeded  to  build 
their  nest.  Not  only  at  this  time,  but  often  afterwards,  I  saw  them 
meet  together,  when,  from  what  they  did  immediately,  as  well  as 
from  their  actions  when  assembled,  I  had  not  the  shade  of  a  doubt 
that  they  held  a  council,  and  conversed  with  each  other,  in  their 
way,  touching  the  course  to  be  pursued.  I  found  out  that  the 
supposition  of  Huber  in  regard  to  them — that  they  expressed  a 
great  deal  by  the  motion  of  their  antennce^  or  horns — is  quite  true, 
and  that  they  communicate  frequently  by  means  of  signs,  somewhat 
after  the  mode  of  the  deaf  mutes  belonging  to  the  human  family. 

After  the  parley,  they  soon  went  to  work  in  earnest,  boring  holes 
in  the  earth,  inside  the  bottle.  You  never  saw  a  more  industrious 
company  of  laborers  in  your  life  than  these  little  creatures,  while 
they  were  at  work  on  their  new  house.  They  did  not  all  work,  to 
be  sure.  The  soldiers  were,  for  the  most,  idle  spectators.  I  noticed 
that  some  of  them  took  a  part  in  the  excavation  once  in  a  great 
while;  but  they  made  bungling  work  of  it;  they  seemed  to  be 
quite  out  of  their  place.  The  workers  did  not  like  their  inter- 
ference at  all,  and  often  tried  to  drive  them  away,  when  they  saw 
what  work  they  made  of  digging. 

It  took  my  ants  more  than  a  day  to  fit  up  a  home  to  their  mind. 
Before  the  labor  was  accomplished,  they  had  to  carry  a  great  many 
loads  of  earth  away,  as  you  may  suppose.  While  the  workers 
were  digging,  the  rest  of  the  family  were,  for  the  most  part,  hud- 
dled together  in  a  knot  under  the  bottle,  in  the  open  globe.  I  no- 
ticed that  the  ants  did  not  make  their  passages  straight  through  the 
earth  in  the  bottle.  They  dug  them  with  a  good  many  crooks  in 
them,  leading  to  different  chambers. 

I  had  the  globe  placed  on  the  table  in  my  study,  so  that  I  could 
watch  all  the  motions  of  the  occupants.  Many  and  many  an  hour, 
first  and  last,  I  spent  in  watching  them,  and  all  my  observations 
were  richly  rewarded.  I  was  watching  them  at  the  exact  moment 
when  the  house  was  pronounced  ready  to  be  occupied.  The 
workers  came  out  of  the  bottle,  and  went  to  the  spot  where  the 
rest  of  the  family  were  assembled,  telling  them,  I  could  not  doubt, 
that  their  task  was  completed.     I  said  I  could  not  doubt  it.     How 


184  ^lY  PET  ANTS. 


could  I  ?     In  a  few  minutes  after  the  interview  of  this  delegation, 
the  whole  family  proceeded  to  enter  the  house. 

I  have  spoken  only  of  the  Avorkers  and  soldiers.  There  were  two 
or  three  female  ants  in  the  community  ;  and  one  of  them  nil  tlie 
ants  treated  as  if  she  were  a  queen.  Say  w/^at  you  will  about  the 
difference  in  the  internal  economy  of  the  ants  and  the  bees — and 
there  is,  doubtless,  a  vast  difference  between  the  two — my  observa- 
tions of  these  ants  satisfied  me  that,  in  this  instance,  tliey  showed 
the  same  homage  to  the  ant-mother  as  the  bees  do  to  their 
queen  ;  and  I  see  no  impropriety  in  calling  this  parsonage  a  queen. 
In  an  ant-hill  there  may  be  many  queens,  while  in  a  bee-hive  there 
is  only  one.  I  shall  call  this  personage  a  queen,  at  all  events  ; 
and  if,  in  so  doing,  I  presume  to  differ  from  most  insect  biogra- 
phers, I  ask  pardon  of  them  in  advance-  "When  the  partv  set  out 
on  their  march  to  the  new  house,  1  saw  what  tliese  soldiers  had 
been  doing  there  so  long  by  themselves.  They  had  been  gunrding 
the  queen.  T  had  not  noticed  her,  until  the  soldiers,  one  by  one, 
began  to  move  towards  the  mouth  of  the  bottle.  They  had  aclu 
ally  covered  her  with  their  own  bodies,  to  shield  her  from  harm. 
She  was  much  larger  than  the  soldiers,  more  than  twice  as  large,  I 
should  think.  You  cannot  imagine  what  devotion  they  all  showed 
her.  When  she  was  ready  to  move,  they  would  not  let  her  do  so 
vulgar  a  thing  as  to  walk,  but  insisted  on  carrying  her  to  the  new 
house,  which  they  did. 

After  the  ants  had  got  comfortably  settled,  they  kept  in  the  bot- 
tle during  most  of  the  day,  though  they  would  sometimes  come  out 
into  the  open  court,  formed  by  the  large  globe,  to  obtain  food,  and 
for  other  purposes  ;  and  at  such  times,  especially,  I  learned  a  great 
deal  from  them.  I  did  not  grudge  them  their,  board,  I  assure 
you. 

One  day,  I  found  some  winged  ants,  and  took  them  home  with 
me.  I  felt  some  curiosity  to  see  what  their  fate  would  be,  if  they 
were  found  poaching  on  the  territory  of  my  black  friends.  So  I 
introduced  them  into  the  globe.  In  less  than  ten  minutes,  not- 
withstanding the  advantage  which  their  wings  gave  them,  they 
were  all  seized  by  the  black  ants,  and  carried  into  their  apartments. 
For  a  day  or  two,  I  was  in  some  doubt  as  to  the  precise  fate  of  the 


MY   PET   ANTS.  135 


winged  intruders.  "For  aiigbt  that  I  know,"  I  said  to  myself, 
'*  these  black  fellows  have  made  servants  of  the  new-comers,  and 
the  two  parties  are  living  together  on  the  best  possible  terms." 
But  my  doubts  on  this  point  were  all  cleared  away  one  morning, 
ivhen  I  turned  my  eyes  towards  the  door  of  the  ant-house.  There 
lay  the  wings  of  the  poor  victims.  With  quite  as  much  truth  as 
poetry,  I  might  have  said, 


"Foul  raurder  hafh  been  done,    lo  !    here's  the   proof!" 

The  case  was  too  clear  to  admit  of  any  speculation.  My  black 
ants  had  eaten  their  flying  cousins  I  I  never  forgave  them  for  tbat 
deed  of  darkness. 

My  ant  family  increased  in  process  of  time,  so  that  at  one  time 
I  had  some  seventy-five  in  all,  according  to  the  best  calculation  I 
could  make.  The  queen  never  came  out  of  the  door  from  the 
time  she  entered  it,  except  when,  (rather  cruelly,  perhaps,)  in  order 
to  leai-n  more  of  their  habits,  I  broke  the  bottle,  and  filled  it  with 
fiesh  earth,  as  I  did  three  or  four  times,  in  order  to  give  dif- 
ferent friends  of  mine  an  opportunity  to  see  the  industry  and  skill 
exhibited  by  my  family  in  making  a  new  house.  I  was  somewhat 
proud  of  my  "  curiosity  shop,"  you  will  perceive. 

I  must  tell  you  of  a  cunning  feat  which  the  ant  family  per- 
formed one  day,  while  they  were  my  tenants.  I  poured  some 
water  into  the  mouth  of  the  little  bottle,  as  it  was  lying  on  its 
side.  The  bottom  of  the  neck,  as  it  lay,  was  covered  with  the 
water,  to  the  depth,  perhaps,  of  a  quarter  of  an  inch.  "  What 
will  the  cunning  fellows  do  now  ?"  I  said  to  myself.  The  only- 
way,  of  course,  in  which  an  ant  could  get  safely  out  of  the  bottle, 
while  the  water  remained  there,  was  to  climb  up  to  the  ceiling- 
overhead,  and  so  go  down  the  roof.  That  was  the  way  they  at 
first  adopted.  But  they  had  wit  enough  to  see  that  getting  cut 
and  in,  after  this  fashion,  was  attended  with  a  good  deal  of  trouble  ; 
and  they  probably  perceived,  too,  that  it  was  not  altogether  safe, 
as  any  one  of  them  might  lose  his  hold  while  he  was  crawling 
along  the  ceiling,  and  fall  into  the  lake  below^  In  fact,  several 
did  make  this  plunge,  at  difi'erent  times,  and  found  it  somewhat 


136  MY   PET  ANTS. 


difficult  to  get  out  of  the  water ;  and,  besides,  some  of  the  eggs 
had  fallen  from  the  chamber  where  they  were  kept  into  the  pool, 
and  it  cost  the  wise  ones  some  toil  in  fishing  them  out  again. 
Well,  what  do  you  think  the  community  did  to  avoid  the  danger 
and  the  trouble  of  egress  and  ingress  in  that  manner  ?  You  could 
not  guess,  I  am  sure.  So  I  might  as  well  tell  you  at  once. 
After  helping  out  of  the  water  two  or  three  poor  fellows  who  had 
fallen  in,  which  they  did  by  crawling  down  the  side  of  the  bottle, 
and  extending  their  hind  feet  to  the  drowning  one,  while  their 
fore  feet  were  fastened  securely  to  the  side  of  the  glass,  they  set 
themselves  at  work  to  get  rid  of  the  lake  altogether.  Bridging  it 
was  quite  out  of  the  question.  They  seemed  to  be  convinced  of 
this.  At  any  rate,  they  did  not  attempt  to  throw  a  bridge  across 
it,  but  adopted  a  surer  method  of  getting  rid  of  the  nuisance. 
They  held  a  council — rather  a  lengthy  one  this  time,  at  which 
they  concluded  to  Jill  up  the  lake.  And  this  they  actually  did. 
A  company  of  the  workers,  leaving  the  house  in  the  manner  I 
have  already  stated,  came  out  into  the  open  globe,  and  carried 
grains  of  earth  to  the  lake,  into  which  they  drojiped  them,  one  by 
one,  until  it  was  quite  filled  up,  so  that  they  could  walk  into  their 
dwelling,  as  before,  on  dry  land ! 

During  the  six  months  that  these  ants  remained  with  me,  they 
performed  so  many  wonderful  exploits,  that  were  I  to  record  them 
all,  I  should  nearly  fill  my  book  with  them.  But  I  must  not  give 
them  so  much  prominence  as  that.  Indeed,  I  don't  know  but  I 
have  already  occupied  too  much  space  in  talking  about  them. 

It  was  towards  the  close  of  summer,  when  I  dismissed  my  ant 
family,  and  allowed  them  to  choose  a  home  for  themselves  in  the 
yard.  Need  I  tell  you,  that  I  felt  sad  in  parting  with  them  ? 
They  had  contributed  so  long  and  so  much  to  my  amusement, 
that  I  had  become  not  a  little  attached  to  them. —  WoodwortWH 
Insect  Wonders. 


THE    EXEMPLARY   CRANE. 


137 


1,    , 


THE  EXEMPLARY  CRAXE. 


A  farmer's  dog,  a  surly  elf, 
Who  ne'er  loved  aught  except  him- 
self, 
As  OQce,  half-chewed,  he  gorged  his 

prey, 
He  found  a  bone  obstruct  the  way  : 
Then  to  the  crane,  in  feeble  tone, 
He  made  the  dire  disaster  known; 
Adding,  to  make  assurance  sure, 
That  vast  rewards  should  pay  the 
cure. 


The  crane  at  once  complied,  and  drew 
The  latent  splinter  f.nth  to  view. 
The  savage,  freed  from  pain  and  fear, 
Beheld  his  friend  with  scornful  sneer  ; 
"  What  !  now,   no  doubt,  you  want 

your  hire. 
Thou  mercenary  fool — retire," 
The  graceless  ruffian  taunting  said, 
''  And  tliauk  me  that  you  wear  your 

head." 
The  generous  bird  reply  disdain'd, 


138 


THE   EXEMPLARY   CRANE. 


And  spurned  the  ground  the  wretch 

profaned, 
Looked  up  with  yet  unangerdi  eye, 
And  clapped  her  wings,  and  sought 

the  sky. 
The  dog  meantime,  with  inward  pain, 
Her  careless  air  and  just  disdain 
Beheld ;  he  cursed  the  glorious  sight 
With  all  the  rage  of  thwarted  spite  ; 
The  keen  remorse  assail'd  him  sore, 
And  gave  a  pang  unfelt  before  ; 
With  persevering  feet,  behind 
Him  Justice  traced,  though  lame  and 

blind  ; 
When  next  he  tasted  living  food, 
He  found  his  late  mischance  reuew'd, 
Another  bone  liis  throat  retains, 
And  doubles  all  his  former  pains  : 
At  once  a  thousand  thoughts  combined 
Like  lightning  flash'd  upon  his  mind  ; 
They   stung,   they   blasted,   as    they 

came. 
With  conscious   guilt,  reproach,  and 

shame : 
Cursed  dog — to  guile  more  cursed  a 

prey, 
Hegronu'd — as  stretch'd  ou  earth  he 

lay. 
A  bird  who  heard  him  thus  complain. 
Flew  straight  and  told  her  friend  the 

crane. 
She  hastes  the   expiring  wretch  to 

find, 
Who    thus    display 'd     his    rankling 

mind : 
"  Comest  thou  to  blast  my  dying  ear  ? 
Why!  take  thy  wish — I'm  bound  to 

bear 
Reproach  and  insult,  storm  and  hate  ; 
Come  all,  and  urge  the  hand  of  fate." 
Conscious  of  worth  superior,  smiled 
The  crane,  and  thus  his  fears  beguiled  : 
"Learn   better     thoughts — look    up 

and  trace 
The  marks  of  mercy  in  my  face 


I  court  tl'e  nobler  task  to  show 
That  virtue  still  resides  below  ; 
To  make  thy  stubborn  soul  believe 
There  still  are  those  who,  wronged, 

relieve ; 
Thy  life  again  I  come  to  ijive. 
And  more,  a  pattern  how  to  live." 
The  cur,  who,  still  of  guile  afraid, 
Knew  death  at  hand  without  her  aid, 
Since   now  his  death  could  be  but 

sure, 
He  thought  it  best  to  risk  a  cure. 
Again  the  crane  exerts  her  art. 
The    splinter   leaves    the    wounded 

part ; 
The  dog,  astonished,  dumb  with  awe, 
The  exalted  bounty  felt  and  saw  ; 
Grovelling  in  dust,  he  durst  not  meet 
Her  eye,  and  crawled,  and  lick'd  her 

feet ; 
Contempt  itself  and  just  disdain 
Had  given  but  half  the  shame  and 

pain. 
The  crane  with  mildness  raised  her 

liead. 
While    thus  the  vanquished   sinner 

said : 
"  Oh  !  let  me  find  some  happy  way 
One  mite  of  my  vast  debt  to  pay  ; 
Make  me  henceforth   your    faithful 

slave. 
And  deign  to  use  the  life  you  gave  ; 
So  shall  I  dare  once  more  to  rise. 
Once   more  to  meet  those   friendly 

eyes." 
The    bird    replied,    "  You    owe    me 

naught ; 
I've  gained  the  sole  reward  I  sought, 
The  joy.  the  glory  to  impai-t 
The   virtue   that    first  warmed    the 

heart ; 
To  heaven  thy  adoration  pay, 
Its  servant  I,  who,  pleased,  obey  : 
Be  virtuous  then,  and  bless'd."  she  said, 
Exulting,  clapped  her  wings,  and  fled. 


DO   CROWS   REASON? 


189 


The  dog  arose,  resolved  no  more 
A  thief  to  prowl  the  f(trest  o'er, 
Was  ever  at  his  master's  i-ide, 
A  faithful  servant  till  he  died. 

MORAL. 

Can  the  ungrateful  render  virtue  vain, 

When  all  may  taste  the  pleasure  of 
the  crane  ? 

Shall  he  who  sighs  for  glory  dye  the 
field. 

When  nobler  laurels  bloodless  con- 
quests yield  ? 


Without  return  who  persevere  to 
bless, 

The  hero's  pleasure  and  his  palm 
possess. 

Brave  in  all  fortunes  be  the  generous 
mind, 

Friend  to  its  foes,  and  to  the  thank- 
less kind ; 

Since  the  steel'd  breast,  on  which 
we  bounties  shed, 

But  throws  a  brighter  radiance  round 
the  head. 


.      DO  CROWS  REASON"? 

As  the  question  of  the  rational  powers  of  animals  is  yet  a  mooted 
question,  we  throw  in  the  following  act  to  "  help  the  cause  along." 

The  miller  at  Cape  Elizabeth,  saw  two  crows  light  upon  the  mill 
pond.  One  got  firm  footing  upon  a  cake  of  ice  ;  but  the  other, 
less  judicious  in  the  selection  of  his  landing-place,  pitched  into 
some  pulpy  snow,  from  which  he  found  it  impossible  to  extricate 
himself.  Crow  No.  1  immediately  came  to  the  rescue,  and  tried 
to  push  him  out  of  the  scrape.  Finding,  however,  that  this  was 
impossible,  he  stopped,  cocked  his  head  one  side  in  apparently 
knowing  deliberation,  then  chatted  for  a  moment  with  his  unfor- 
tunate comrade,  and  flew  oft". 

The  miller  thought  he  wotild  watch  the  denouement.  In  about 
ten  minutes,  crow  No.  1  returned  with  two  others.  These  three 
put  their  heads  together  in  consultation,  flew  round  their  impris- 
oned brother  and  examined  his  condition,  and  then  by  a  joint  ef- 
fort raised  him  up  and  stood  him  upon  the  ice.  This  being  accom- 
plished, they  rubbe'd  against  him  to  warm  him,  brushed  the  frozen 
snow  from  his  limbs,  and  finally  all  departed  together — the  saved 
crow  being  in  the  centre  of  the  others,  as  though  it  was  still  neces- 
sary to  watch  after  his  welfare. 

If  anybody  can  produce  a  stronger  incident  in  croi^nological 
history,  let  him  bring  it  on. 


140 


UNCLE  FEANK'S  PRIVATE   BUREAU. 


UNCLE  FEANK'S  PRIYATE  BUREAU. 


WESTCHESTER    COUNTY. 


^/ 


r4  HERE  are  but  few  if  any  counties  in  tlie  Empire 
State,  richer  in  historic  interest,  tlian  Westciies- 
ter,  in  the  very  heart  of  which  is  situated  the 
editor's  country  home.  One  of  these  days  I  am 
froiiig  to  tell  you  some  stories  connected  with  the  early 
^ttlement  of  this  part  of  the  country,  and  the  subsequent 
struggles  of  its  inhabitants.  I  have  just  discovered  a  rich 
mine  from  which  I  can  glean  all  the  material  I  want  for  this  pur- 
pose. I  mean  the  "  HiHtory  of  Westchester  Couiitt/,  from  its  tirst 
settlement  to  the  present  time."  This  work,  which  is  in  two  large 
octavo  volumes,  with  numerous  illustrations,  was  written  by  Robert 
Bolton,  Jr.  a  gentleman,  it  would  seem,  admirably  adapted  to  the 
task.  Himself  a  native  of  Westchester,  he  sets  about  the  work 
of  rescuing  from  oblivion  the  interesting  incidents  in  the  early 
history  of  the  county,  with  as  good  a  relish  as  if  it  were  the  eat- 
ing of  a  good  dinner.  The  work  was  published  a  few  years  ago, 
and  the  edition,  I  understand,  is  nearly  exhausted.  What  a  pity 
it  was  not  stereotyped.  Mr.  George  H.  Bell,  of  this  city,  has  the 
remnant  of  the  edition  for  sale,  at  a  very  low  price,  and  in  a  very 
short  time  there  will  probably  not  be  a  copy  of  this  valuable  book 
in  the  market. 


ALL    MY    CORRESPONDENTS 

Will  greatly  oblige  me  by  writing  on  one  side  only  of  their  paper. 
This  rule,  which  has  long  been  a  standing  one  among  editors,  is 
very  often  broken  by  writers  for  the  press,  who  think,  doubtless, 
that  the  rule  is  good  enough,  but  that  their  case  may  form  an 


UNCLE   FEANK's   PRIVATE   BUREAU.  141 

(•xee{)tion  to  it.  Many  people  niisttike  the  reason  for  this  luie. 
They  suppose  the  printer  wishes  them  to  occupy  but  one  side  of 
tl)e  paper,  because  the  writing  may  be  partly  visible  on  the  other 
side,  and  tlius  render  indistinct  what  is  written  on  both  sides. 
But  this  is  not  the  principal  reason,  by  at  least  a  thousand  miles. 
It  is  that  w^e  so  often  wish  to  divide  the  manuscript  for  the  use  of 
the  printer,  and  this  cannot  be  done  when  both  sides  are  used.  1 
often  send  copy  to  the  foundry  in  the  form  of  a  roll  of  carpeting, 
and  this  practice  of  writing  over  the  whole  sheet  interferes  seriously 
with  such  an  arrangement.  I  wish  the  rule  above-named,  there- 
fore, to  be  regarded  as  imperative  upon  all  and  singular  who  send 
anything  through  me  to  the  printer.  Write  only  on  one  side^  on 
pain  of  forfeiting  the  reputation  of — wishing  to  please  Uncle  Frank. 


OUR    STEREOTYPE    FOUNDRY. 


I  suppose  I  may  say  our  foundry — though  neither  the  editor  nor 
the  publisher  owns  a  cent  of  the  establishment — with  the  same  pro- 
priety that  a  man  may  talk  about  "  our  church,"  because  he  is  one 
of  its  communicants,  or  "  our  grocery,"  because  he  buys  coftee  and 
butter  there.  The  stereotype  foundry  of  Mr.  T.  B.  Smith,  at  all 
events,  has  been  called  familiarly  "  our  foundry,"  by  my  bi'other 
and  myself,  for  I  don't  know  how  many  years.  The  few  words  I 
have  just  said  to  those  who  are  so  kind  as  to  assist  me  in  catei'ing 
for  the  readers  of  the  Cabinet,  suggest  a  few  words  more  about 
our  foundry  and  those  who  are  engaged  in  it.  The  little  magazine 
you  read  every  month  with  so  much  interest,  has  the  reputation 
among  good  judges  of  being  very  tasteful  in  its  mechanical  execu- 
tion, and  especially  of  being  fiee  from  typographical  ei-rors.  Now 
I  want  you  to  know  that  a  great  share  of  this  good  taste  and  gen- 
eral correctness  is  due  to  those  more  especially  charged  w^ith  the 
stereotyping  and  printing.  A  great  portion  of  every  number  of 
the  Cabinet  is  made  up  of  original  matter,  often  from  several  pens 
besides  that  of  the  editor ;  and  with  all  the  care  that  I  could  em- 
ploy— residing  as  I  now  do  nearly  thirty  miles  from  the  printer — 
many  mistakes  must  unavoidably  creep  into  the  stereotype  plates, 
but  for  the  unwearied  care  and  faithfulness  of  Mr.  Smith  and  those 
in  his  employ.     Very  few  of  those  who  have  even  visited  such  an 


142  UNCLE  Frank's  private  bureau. 

establishment  as  Mr,  Smith's,  where  some  fifty  or  sixty  men  are 
employed,  can  imagine  what  a  bank  of  care  and  patience  is  neces- 
sary to  secure  for  such  a  work  as  the  Cabinet  the  accuracy  which 
it  so  unifoimly  exhibits.  To  Mr.  M'Dougal.,  the  foreman,  our 
readers  are  greatly  indebted.  For  years  he  has  been  unwearied  in 
his  endeavors  to  serve  up  each  monthly  number  with  punctuality,  in 
the  best  possible  style.  The  entire  arrangement  of  subjects  is  left 
with  him,  and  sometimes,  when,  as  it  fiequently  happens,  there  is 
copy  in  the  foundry  for  at  least  two  numbers,  even  the  selection  of 
the  subjects  themselves  devolves  upon  him.  During  the  seven 
months  of  my  absence  in  Europe,  nearly  all  the  matter  not  stereo- 
typed before  I  left,  passed  through  the  press  with  no  supervision  but 
his,  and  my  readeis  do  not  need  to  be  told  that  the  machinery  of 
the  Cabinet  moved  so  accurately  during  this  period,  that  the  edi- 
tor was  scarcely  missed.  To  Mr.  De  Groot,  also,  the  proof- 
reader, Mr.  Watson,  m  the  casting  room,  and  Mr.  Wright,  in  the 
finishing  department,  much  praise  is  due.  But  for  the  latter  gen- 
tleman, who  is  always  at  his  post  and  always  watchful  and  accom- 
modating, the  face  of  the  Cabinet  would  be  often  disfigured  with 
t}l)0graphical  blemishes.  But  I  must  say  no  more  about  our 
foundry.  Indeed,  I  am  half  afraid  now  that  the  printers  will 
"  strike"  when  they  read  over  this  manuscript,  in  which  so  many 
"  tales  are  told  out  of  school,"  and  absolutely  refuse  to  give  it  a 
passport  through  their  realm. 

By  the  way,  didn't  I  promise  some  time  ago  that  I  would  de- 
scribe the  process  of  stereotyping  in  the  Cabinet?  I  must  see 
that  I  fulfil  the  promise,  if  I  d.d  make  it.  Meanwhile,  should  any 
of  our  patrons  wish  to  visit  our  foundry  and  see  it  for  themselves, 
my  brother  will  be  happy  to  aff"ord  them  the  opportunity,  if  they 
will  give  him  a  call. 

I  cannot  print  the  lines  under  the  caption  of  "  The  Murderer's 
Lament."  The  author  writes  a  very  pretty  letter.  His  poetry,  too, 
is  better  than  many  of  the  cargoes  of  that  commodity  which  I  am 
in  the  habit  of  receiving,  though  I  think  we  shall  have  something 
from  him,  one  of  these  days,  which  he  will  be  better  pleased  with 
should  he  live  twenty  years  longer. 


143 

The  story  of  the  "  Shipwreck"  would  do  very  well  for  some 
magazines,  but  I  do  not  consider  it  quite  the  thing  for  the  Cabinet. 


RECENT    PUBLICATIONS. 

The  Bee-Keeper^s  Charts  a  small  treatise  on  the  habits  of  honey 
bees,  with  directions  respecting  their  management,  is  an  excellent 
manual  for  the  bee-keeper,  published  by  Mr.  Saxton  of  this  city. 
It  was  written  by  Mr.  E.  W.  Phelps,  a  gentleman  who  has  devoted 
years  to  the  study  of  the  habits  of  bees,  with  especial  reference  to 
the  production  of  honey.  Mr.  Phelps  appears  to  be  a  very  sensible 
and  observant  bee-keeper,  and  he  has  embodied  some  excellent  hints 
on  the  management  of  the  hive  in  this  treatise.  He  is  also  the 
inventor  of  a  hive  which,  in  my  judgment,  is  the  best  I  have  ever 
seen,  especially  for  those  who  wish  to  watch  the  movements  of  these 
industrious  little  creatures.  I  have  one  of  his  hives  in  my  study, 
with  a  large  army  of  bees  at  work  in  it ;  and  one  of  these  days  I 
am  going  to  tell  my  readers  what  I  have  learned  from  a  somewhat 
careful  study  of  their'  habits.  Meanwhile,  if  any  of  my  friends 
"  happen  our  way,''  as  we  say  in  the  country,  I  should  be  happy  to 
show  them  the  tenants  of  Mr.  Phelps'  "  crystal  palace  of  industry." 

The  Mysteries  of  Bee-Jceeping  Exemplified,  is  the  title  of  another 
new  book  on  the  management  of  bees,  by  Mr.  Quinby,  published 
by  C.  M.  Saxton,  of  this  city.  There  is  a  great  deal  written,  about 
bees  now-a-days — much  that  is  true  and  sensible,  with  not  a  little 
that  is  mistaken  and  absurd.  The  book  of  Mr.  Quinby  is  one  of 
the  best,  take  it  all  in  all,  according  to  my  judgment — and  I  know 
something  about  the  habits  of  bees  and  their  management — that 
I  have  ever  seen.  The  practical  bee-keeper  will  find  it  reliable  and 
instructive.     Price  $1   00. 

Pleasure  and  Profit,  by  Mrs.  Manners,  is  a  little  book  intended 
for  the  young,  and  very  happily  adapted  both  to  entertain  them 
and  to  affoi-d  them  permanent  profit.  It  is  a  series  of  lessons  on 
the  Lord's  Prayer.  I  know  who  Mrs.  Manners  is  ;  but  I'll  let  you 
read  the  book  and  guess  the  name  for  yourself. 


144  THE  puzzler's  drawer. 


THE  PUZZLEE'S  DRAWEE. 

SOLUTION    OF    THE    NAMES    OF    PLACES    IN    ASIA,    ENIGMATICALLY 
EXPRESSED. 

1.  BusHiRE.  3.  Cashmere.  5.  Meshed. 

2.  Bagdad.  4.  Nagpoor. 

Sent  by  Anna  Quackenbnsh,  of  Schenectady,  N.  Y. ;  John  C.  Byram, 
of  Liberty,  la. ;  Jules  T.  Billard,  of  Rhinebeck,  N.  Y. ;  A.  F.  Gibbens, 
of  Parkersburg,  Va. 


answer    to    REBUS    NO.   I. 

Mar.  Arm.  Ram. 

Sent  by  Anna  Quackenbush,  of  Schenectady,  N.  Y. ;  George  R. 
Hanford,  of  Rodman,  N.  Y. ;  Jules  T.  Billard,  of  Rhinebeck,  N.  Y. ; 
Mary  E.  W.  of  New  Haven,  Ct. ;  Edward  L.  of  Orange,  N.  J. 


answer  to  the  geographical  charade. 

Tahtarv. 
Sent  by  Anna  Quackenbush,  of  Schenectady ;  John  C.  Byram,  of 
Liberty,  la. ;  Jules  T.  Billard,  of  Rhinebeck,  N.  Y. 


answer  to  riddle  no.  iii. 

Water. 
Sent  by  John  C.  Byram,  of  Liberty,  La. ;  Curtiss  N.  Hall,  of  South- 
bury,  Ct. ;  John  W.  Hinman,  of  New  Haven,  Ct. ;  Henry  Hubbell,  of 
Bridgeport,  Ct. ,  Henry  VV.  Scott,  of  Southbury,  Ct. 


answer  to  enigma  no.  iii. 
"  Before  Honor  is  Humility." 
Sent  by  Anna  Quackenbush,  of  Schenectadv,  N.  Y. ;  Geo.  R.  Han- 
ford, of  Rodman,  N.  Y. ;  Jules  T.  Billard,  of  Rhinebeck,  N.  Y. ;  A.  F. 
Gibbens,  of  Parke rsburg,  Va. ;  Caroline  N.  Smith,  and  Caroline  A.  Co- 
burn,  of  Washington,  D.  C. ;  Mary  E.  W.  of  New  Haven,  Ct. ;  Edward 
L.  of  Orange,  N.  J. 

THE    prize    charade    IN    PROSE. 

My  whole  consists  of  three  numbers. 

My  first  originates  with  you,  and  without  you  never  could  have  been, 


I 


THE  puzzlek's  dkawer.  145 

could  not  now  exist.     But  you  cannot  alone  make  it ;   nor  of  yourself 
•will  you,  nor  can  you  use  it. 

My  second,  also,  belongs  to  you,  but  is  common  to  all  animate 
beings,  and  indispensable  also  to  many  inanimate  things  in  daily  use. 
It  is  small,  but  highly  valuable,  and  in  constant  use.  You  know  you 
possess  it,  but  you  never  saw  it,  never  can  see  it  in  perfection,  and 
were  it  taken  from  you,  no  human  art  could  restore  it.  By  it,  you 
may  receive  exquisite  pleasure;  by  it,  suffer  deepest  pain.  Its  capacity 
IS  small,  but  though  ever  receiving,  it  is  never  satisfied.  It  courts  ad- 
miration, but  is  rarely  noticed. 

i\ly  third  is  a  resort  of  only  the  low  and  depraved,  and  as  such  is 
shunned  and  abhorred  by  the  good  and  virtuous.  It  is,  too,  often  the 
subject  of  a  delicate  art,  the  product  of  refined  taste  and  artistic  skill. 
It  is  a  glorious  ornament  of  a  heavenly  orb.  It  was  known  to  remote 
ages,  yet  is  in  high  favor  with  the  fashion  of  the  day.  It  has  been  seen 
on  the  mummies  of  Thebes,  and  the  present  Empress  of  France.  It 
delights  the  perfumed  dandy,  and  the  squaw  of  the  rude  Esquimaux, 
and  both  display  it.  The  antiquarian  prizes  it  most  when  of  the  great- 
est antiquity,  the  fine  lady  desires  it  but  lately  formed.  'Tis  mentioned 
by  ]\Ioses,  by  Job,  and  the  Saviour,  while  almost  every  newspaper  in- 
vites you  to  obtain  it. 

My  first  and  second  no  one  wants.  My  second  no  one  wishes  to 
lose. 

Though  you  should  dislike  my  whole,  still  it  is  very  near  to  you. 
My  first  is  never  used  alone.  My  first  and  second  are  often  used 
together,  while  my  second  and  third  express  a  disagreeable  sensation. 
Were  you  to  give  my  whole  to  another,  it  would  then  cease  to  be. 

B.  c.  J. 

budget  of  anagrams  no.  i. 
1.  Tin  chairs.  2.  Pier  club.  3.  Banish  taint. 

A.  F.  G. 


an  enigma  for  FRENCH  SCHOLARS. 

My  12,  6,  18,  is  a  pronoun. 

My  3,  2,  12,  is  a  title. 

My  16,  20,  8,  7,  8,  12,  17,  14,  20,  17,  is  what  often  happens  in  the 
streets  of  our  large  cities. 

My  17,  14,  4,  8,  20,  is  a  name  applied  to  the  higher  circles  of  fashion. 

My  8,  13,  16,  11,  5,  is  an  article  which  adds  much  to  our  comfort, 
though  it  is  not  altogether  indispensable. 

vol..    IV  7  SR 


146  THE   PUZZLER'S   DRAWER. 

My  19,  10,  7,  8,  20,  attended  Kossuth  while  in  this  country. 
My  16,  13,  8,  2,  4,  5,  is  a  style  of  language  used  in  some  parts  of 
France. 

My  whole  is  a  French  proverb,  and  is  composed  of  20  letters. 
Hopedale,  Va.  lilla  m.  eoyden. 

RIDDLE    NO.    IV. 

At  home,  alas,  Fm  a  dark,  little  mass, 

In  the  congregation  of  my  kin ; 
From  human  hand  to  hand  we  pass — 

We  and  the  house  we  all  live  in. 
But  ere   the  task  of  my  life  is  begun, 
A  lonely  captive,  away  I  run. 

I  run  apace  to  the  end  of  my  race, 
Though  my  7ears  perchance  may  not  be  few; 

And  as  long  as  my  curious  path  I  trace, 

I'm  changing  my  form,  but  change   not  my  hue. 

I  travel  the  road  that  leads  to  fame, 

And  never  return  by  the  way  I  came. 

Not  a  day  doth   pass  but  lad  and   lass, 

And  people  of  every  rank  and  grade, 
Take  counsel  of  me  or  some  of  my  class, 

And  travel,  in  thought,  the  path  we  have  made. 
It  may  be  with  pleasure,  it  may  be  with  sorrow — 
But  they  do  it  to-day — they  will  do  it  to-morrow. 

My  name  will   you  tell  ?     You  know  me  well, 

You  have  friends  throughout  my  family. 
We  inhabit  the  house  wherein  you  dwell — 

The  parlor,  the  chamber,  the   library. 
You  may  use  or  abuse  us  whenever  you  will, 
We  shall  be  at  your  service  for  good  or  for  ill — 
We  may  honor  or  harm  you,  but  dwell  with  you  still. 

LILIAN. 

ENIGMA    NO.    V. 

I  am  composed  of  22  letters. 

My  7,  2,  18,  5.  is  a  great  man. 

My  13,  12,  9,  3, 14,  is  a  person  celebrated  in  ancient  historv, 


THE   puzzler's   DRAWER.  147 

My  3,  5,  9,  is  the  name  of  a  weight. 

My  7,  8,  10,  7,  2,  18,  is  the  students'  motto.  - 

My  10,  5,  12,  19,  14,  12,  13,  is  the  motto  of  the  persevering. 

My  18,  8,  10,  19,  16,  is  what  all  should  do. 

My  13,  18,  12,  10,  is  an  implement  of  agriculture. 

My  10,  5,  12,  16,  is  an  animal  which  would  be  most  useful  to  man 
were  he  to  be  deprived  of  all  but  one.      .; 

My  13,  12,  4,  is  a  nickname  among  boys. 

My  13,  8,  13,  5,  is  a  name  favored  in  song. 

My  18,  16,  19,  5,  15,  is  a  title  of  rank. 

My  14,  12,  21,  15,  19,  is  one  of  the  planets.  Uyk,  ,  , 

My  11,  12,  4,  6,  22,  21,  is  what  many  do  in  trade.  J^  c^r^- Q^ 

My  10,  12,  4,  13,  20,  21,  is  a  domestic  fowl.  ;-v^f-  eO-r^ 

My  12,  10,  22,  is  what  we  all  have  more  or  less.      •    ■■  -<'-■  ■ 

My  19,  17,  21,  41,  is  an  adverb. 

My  11,  12,  11,  22,  1,  was  an  ancient  tower. 

My  whole  is  a  command,  which  in  ancient  times  was  sometimes  writ- 
ten over  a  man's  door.  john  c.  long. 


A    RIDDLE    WITHIN    A    CHARADE. 

Though  but  three  letters,  I  am  named, 
My  first  two  make  a  word  of  four ; 

My  third,  split  from  a  nation  famed, 
Will  leave  a  dweller  on  its  shore. 

I've  often  wept  o'er  human  guilt, 
And  yet  I  never  shed  a  tear, 

And  though  another's  blood  I've  spilt, 
The  law  has  never  made  me  fear. 

Though  on  the  Arctic  shores  I  dwell, 

And  fav  in  China  always  stay, 
'Tis  true  I  toll  the  Moscow  bell, 

And  yet  you  see  me  every  day. 
My  brother  is  of  Moorish  birth, 

And  gladdens  oft  Sahara's  waste; 
I  rightly  estimate  his  worth, 

And  find  him  pleasant  to  the  taste. 

We  both  united,  form,  you  see, 
A  mighty  instrument  of  power ; 

We  are  a  despot's  firm  decree, 
And  cause  republicans  to  cower. 


^ 


148  BUSINESS  DEPARTMENT. 


BUSINESS  DEPARTMENT. 

The  JVew  York  Ink  Companij,  under  the  particular  direction  of  F.  W.  Wilcox,  manufac- 
ture some  of  the  very  finest  inks,  of  different  varieties,  to  be  found  in  the  market,  and  at 
fair  prices.  The  publisher  of  the  Cabinet  uses  altogether  the  black  ink  made  at  this  estab- 
lishment, and  finds  it  a  most  excellent  article,  free  from  all  those  defects  which  are  so 
common  in  ink  now-a-days.    Charles  M.  Saxton,  152  Fulton  street,  is  the  general  agent. 


Hiram  .Ivdersoii's  Carpet  Establishment,  No.  90  Bowery,  is  every  way  worthy  of  patron- 
age. This  Hiram,  like  lliat  of  the  olden  lime,  has  some  regal  pretensions.  That  Hiram 
was  king  of  Tyre— this,  king  of  Carpetdom.  The  two  are  somewhat  alike,  also,  in  another 
respect.  The  ancient  Hiram  furnished  material  for  one  of  the  finest  edifices  in  the  Eastern 
world.  The  modern  Hiram  furnishes  material  for  many  of  the  finest  edifices  in  the  Western 
world.  

JVew  Hat  Stare.— Mr.  Espenscheid,  formerly  in  the  employ  of  the  celebrated  Genin,  has 
established  a  hat  store  directly  under  the  otlice  of  the  Cabinet,  in  Nassau  street,  where  he 
is  selling  the  best  of  hats  at  very  moderate  prices.  Our  friends  will  do  well,  we  think,  to 
give  him  a  trial.  We  have  done  so  more  than  once,  and  have  been  more  than  satisfied. 
He  is  determined,  he  says,  to  suit  everybody,  both  as  to  the  style  and  quality  of  his  hats, 
and  the  prices  he  ciiarges  for  them. 

THE  STEAMER  THOMAS  E.  HULSE,  which  leaves  New  York,  foot  of  Jay  street, 
every  day,  except  Sunday,  at  3.V  P.M.,  affords  an  excellent  opportunity  of  enjoying  the  Hud- 
son river  scenery,  and  of  visiting  all  the  beautiful  places  on  the  west  side,  as  far  up  as  Sing 
Sing. 

FOR  BOSTON,  via  NEWPORT  and  FALT,  RIVER.— The  splendid  and  superior  steam- 
ers BAV  STATE,  Capl.  Wm.  Brown, and  EMPiKK  STATE,  ("apt.  Benjamin  Brayton,  leave 
on  alternate  davs,  (Sundays  excepted,;  from  Pier  No.  3,  N.  K.,  near  Die  Battery,  at  5  P.M. 
Both  touching' at  Newport  each  way.  The  steamer  STATE  OF  MAINE,  Capt.  Thos.  G. 
Jewett,  for  Newport,  on  Tuesdays,  Thursdays,  and  Saturdays,  at  6  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Returning  she  will  leave  Newport  on  alternate  days,  at  7".\.M.  Freight  to  Boston  is  for- 
warded through  with  great  dispatch,  by  an  express  freight  train. 

NEW  YORK  and  NEW  HAVEN  RAILROAD— New  SI.'MMER  ARRANGEMENT.— 
July  18,  1853. 

Trains  from  New  York — For  New  Haven — Accommodation,  at  7  and  II  30  A.M.;  4 
and  5  10  P.M.  The  4  P.M.  train  is  Expressed  to  (;reenwieh.  Express  at  H  A.M. ;  3  and  5 
P..M.  The  8  A.M.  train  stops  at  Stamford  and  Bridgeport;  the  3  P.M.  at  Stamford,  Nor- 
walk  and  Bridgeport.  For  Port  Chester  and  J\'oricaik — Special  .Accommodation  trains  at 
8  45  A.M.  and  G  15  P.M.  for  Norwalk  ;  and  at  1  30  and  4  10  P.M.  for  Port  Chester.  For 
Boston  via  Hartford,  Sprin^rfield,  and  ;<'<;rcf.s<fr— Express  at  8  A.M.  and  5  P.M.  The  8 
A.M.  stops  on  Hartford  Railroad  at  Meriden,  Berlin,  and  .Middletown,  Hartford  and  Spring- 
field. The  5  P.M.  at  Hartford  only.  For  Housatonic  and  JVaufratuck  Nnuruad — .At  A.M. 
and  3  P.M.  Express  to  Bridgeport  For  Danbury  and  JVorwalk  Kailrond — Accommodation 
at  7  and  8  45  A.M.  and  4  P.M.  Express.  Tr.\i.ss  to  New  York.- From  New  Haven- 
Accommodation  at  5,  6  05,  7  30,  and  9  35  A.M.,  and  4  P  .M.  Express  at  1  10  and  9  30  P.  M. 
From  ,Vorwalk  avd  Port  Chester — Special  Accommodation  trains  from  Norwalk  at  5  45 
and  11  30  A.M. ;  from  Port  Chester  at  5  30  A.M.  and  4  P..M. 

NEW  YORK  and  ERIE  RAILROAD.— Passenger  Trains  leave  pier  foot  of  Duane 
street,  as  follows :  n 

Day  Express  at  6  A.M.,  for  Buffalo  direct,  orer  the  N.  Y.  &  E.  R.  R.,  and  the  B.  & 
New  York  city  R.  R.,  without  change  of  bag;,'ai,'e  or  cars,  and  also  for  Dunkirk.  JUail  at  8 
A.M.,  for  Dunkirk  and  Buffalo,  and  all  intermediate  .stations.  P:tssengers  by  this  train  will 
remain  over  night  at  any  station  between  Susquehanna  and  Corning,  and  proceed  the  next 
morning,  .'ieconvnodn'tion  at  12  30  P.M  ,  for  Delaware  and  all  intermediate  stations. 
IVny  at  3  30  P..M.,  for  Delaware  and  all  intermediate  stations.  JViirht  Express  at  0  P.M., 
for  bimkirk  and  Buffalo.  Emigrant  at  7  P.M.,  for  Dunkirk  and  all  intermediate  stations. 
On  Sundays  only  one  express  train,  at  6  P  M.  The  expre.^s  trains  connect  at  Dujikirk  with 
the  Lake  Shore  Railro;id  for  Cleveland,  Cincinnati.  Chicago,  &c.,  and  at  Buffalo  with  first- 
class  splendid  steamers  for  Cleveland,  Sandusky,  Toledo,  Detroit,  and  Chicago. 


^ 


AN   APOLOGY   FOR  HOGS. 


151 


AN  APOLOGY  FOR  HOGS. 


;^(.-i^- 


r^-^^-^ 


N   apology  for  liogs.      Yes,  that  is  the  topic  with 

.  which  I  purpose  to  occupy  about  as  many  minutes 

of  my  time  and  yours  as  there  are  individuals  of  this 

genus  and  species  within  sight  of  the  window  of  my 


N  )?y^  study.  It  occurs  to  me,  though,  right  here  at  the  outset, 
^^  that  perhaps  you  will  ask  for  an  apology  touching  even 
the  use  of  the  word  ho^  at  all.  This  animal  has  got  such  an 
odious  character  among  mankind,  that  his  very  name  is  well  nigh 
disused  in  polite  circles.  One  might  almost  apply  to  this  beast 
the  language  of  the  old  love  ditty  : 

"Oh,  no,  we  never  mention  him; 
His  name  is  never  heard  ; 
My  lips  are  now  forhid  to  speak 
That  once   familiar  word." 

He  is  sometimes  called  a  sivine,  that  epithet,  I  suppose,  being- 
deemed  more  elegant.  I  have  only  to  say,  in  apology  for  my 
adhering  to  the  "  old  famihar  word"  hoff,  that  it  is  good  Saxon, 
while  swine  is  Norman ;  and  I  always  incline  to  defend  Saxon 
against  Xorman,  Latin,  Greek,  or  any  other  language  whatsoever. 
So,  by  your  leave,  I  will  use  the  word  hog,  in  this  defence  of  his 
race.  If,  however,  any  reader  prefers  the  Norman  word,  he  or  she 
is  left  at  perfect  liberty  to  substitute  it.  To  all  such  persons  I  will 
say,  in  the  language  of  the  errata  sometimes  printed  at  the  end 
of  a  book,  in  which  are  corrected  the  blunders  of  the  printer,  or,  it 
may  be,  of  the  author,  "  for  hof/  read  swineP 

It  is  my  firm  and  deliberate  conviction — we  are  now,  you  see, 
coming  right  to  the  marrow  of  our  subject — that  the  hog  family 
have  been  and  are  most  unmercifully  abused.  They  are  not  im- 
maculate. I  don't  claim  for  them  a  character  perfectly  untarnished. 
That  would  be  askin<i-  rather  too  much,  I  tancv,  consider! ni>'  that  the 


L52  AN  APOLOGY  FOR  HOGS. 


race  to  which  we  belong,  with  all  the  airs  we  are  accustomed  to  put 
on,  are  not  quite  perfect,  according  to  our  own  confession,  either  in 
the  department  of  the  heart  or  the  head.  No,  I  don't  claim  for 
any  hog  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  that  he  is  a  pattern  of  propriety 
and  decorum.  But  I  do  claim  that  the  hog  family  are  "  more 
sinned  against  than  sinning."  Now  suppose  we  examine  the 
prominent  charges  against  the  character  of  the  hog,  and  see  what 
ground  they  have  to  stand  upon. 

It  is  alleged  against  the  hog  that  he  is  selfish. 

Ah,  how  so  ?  I  have  often  heard  that,  charge  repeated;  and 
one  of  the  commonest  comparisons  in  the  English  language  is,  "  as 
selfish  as  a  hog."*  Now,  1  want  to  know  what  proof  you  have  to 
offer  that  the  charge  is  well  founded. 

"  Why,  every'body  knows  he  is  selfish.  It  is  as  plain  as  the 
nose  on  a  man's  face." 

No,  my  good  fellow,  I  can't  think  of  letting  you  oti'  so.  Let  us 
have  some  proof.  These  old,  rusty,  moss-covered,  mildewed  no- 
tions want  overhauling  sometimes — turned  bottom-side  up,  so  that 
daylight  can  peer  in  upon  them.  The*  proof,  I  say ;  give  us  the 
proof;  or  if  you  haven't  got  that,  at  least  tell  us  how,  when,  and 
where  the  accused  has  exhibited  these  selfish  propensities. 

"  He  is  selfish  in  his  eating.  He  always  eats  just  as  fast  as  he 
can,  utterly  regardless  of  other  members  of  the  same  family ;  or 
if  he  notices  any  other  hog  while  he  is  eating,  it  is  only  to  drive 
him  away  from  the  trough,  if  he  is  strong  enough  to  do  so." 

What  you  say  has  some  truth  in  it.  ]3ut  is  tiie  hog  any  worse 
than  hundreds  of  other  animals  in  this  respect — animals,  too, 
against  whom  nobody  ever  wags  his  tongue,  and  who  are  even 
eulogized  in  good  society  ;  aye,  and  caressed  and  petted,  with  ever 
so  much  fondness  ?  How  is  it  with  a  company  of  hens  ?  Are 
they  faultless  in  this  particular  ?  Don't  they  eat  fast,  and  don't 
the  stronger  ones  drive  away  the  weaker  ones,  when  they  find  a 
magazine  of  provisions  ?  Will  not  dogs  and  cats  do  the  same  ? 
Did  you  ever  succeed  in  instilling  Lord  Chesterfield's  notions  of 
politeness  into  the  mind  of  even  your  pet  dog,  who,  of  course,  is 
a  perfect  pattern  of  decorum,  so  that  the  dear  creature  would  not 
snarl  and  snap  his  teeth  at  another  dog,  while  at  dinner,  especially 


AN   APOLOGY  FOR  HOGS.  153 

if  the  meal  was  a  somewhat  frugal  one  ?  And  pray,  what  breach 
of  propriety  does  the  hog  commit  at  his  trough,  for  which  you 
cannot  find  a  parallel  by  watching  the  behavior  of  some  members 
of  the  human  family,  while  they  are  at  table  ? 

"  Now,  please  don't  touch  upon  that  string.     It  is  n't  fair." 

Yes,  it  is  fair,  and  I'm  going  to  hit  the  string  a  good,  hard  blow. 

"  Why  everybody  admits  that  some  men  act  like  hogs  at  a  pub- 
lic dinner-table,  and  such  persons,  in  all  good  society,  are  univer- 
sally voted  hoggish:'' 

Yes,  but  suppose  you  see  a  man,  at  dinner  on  board  of  a 
steamboat,  help  himself,  the  moment  he  sits  down  at  the  table, 
to  all  the  oysters  there  are  within  his  reach,  just  because  he  likes 
them  and  they  are  somewhat  scarce.  Would  you  banish  him 
from  good  society  on  that  account  ? 

"  Why,  no,  not  exactly." 

And  if  you  should  see  that  same  man  so  busy  gorging  himself, 
that  he  had  not  a  moment  to  devote  to  the  wants  of  his  neigh- 
bors at  the  table,  and  moreover,  if  he  were  to  perform  the  same 
feat  with  everything  eatable  around  him,  provided  that,  too,  be 
scarce,  and  he  is  fond  of  it,  would  you  read  him  out  of  your  society 
then,  and  banish  him  to  the  hog-pen  ? 

"  Perhaps  not.     But  the  hog  is  slovenly,  too." 

I  grant  that  he  is  not  very  tidy  in  his  habits.  At  all  events, 
though  I  have  known  of  a  good  many  hogs  who  were  publicly 
executed,  and  even  "  drawn  and  quartered,"  I  am  sure  I  never 
heai-d  of  one  in  my  life  Avho  suffered  capital  punishment  for  the 
crime  of  neatness.  But  in  what  particular  does  he  most  clearly 
evince  his  slovenly  disposition  ? 

"  He  wallows  in  the  mire." 

That  he  does.  There  is  no  disputing  it.  You  might  quote 
Scripture  to  sustain  that  charge,  if  there  were  any  need  of  it.  But 
it  has  been  conclusively  demonstrated  that  he  resorts  to  this  wal- 
lowing process,  as  the  best  means  within  his  reach  to  get  clear 
of  certain  troublesome  vermin.  It  does  not  appear  that  the  hog 
is  filtliy  from  choice.  In  this  case,  certainly  his  filthiness  is  rather 
a  matter  of  necessity.  In  his  pen,  he  will  observe  a  tolerable  de- 
gree of  neatness,  if  his  master  will  afford  him  the  facilities  for  so 

vol..  IV.  7'-^  oc 


154:  AN  APOLOGY  FOE  HOGS. 


doing.  My  father's  liogs,  I  well  recollect,  were  always  commend- 
ably  clean  in  their  habits  within  doors. 

Moreover,  admitting  all  that  is  charged  against  the  hog  in  the 
matter  of  filthiness,  did  you  ever  see  or  hear  of  one  that  was  not 
neater  than  some  men  who  chew  tobacco  ?  Wliy,  I've  known  a 
man  sitting  in  a  parlor,  with  his  face  toward  a  fire-place  or  grate, 
turn  his  head  deliberately  and  designedly  square  about,  and  dis- 
charge the  superfluous  juice  from  his  tobacco  mill  upon  the  beau- 
tiful tapestry  carpet.  I  have  seen  this  feat  performed,  and  some- 
thing very  mucli  like  it,  more  than  once.  That  certainly  looks 
like  being  filthy  from  choice,  because  one  has  a  constitutional 
fondness  for  filth.  How  can  you  account  for  such  a  fact  on  any 
other  theory  ?  Then  don't  you  see  that  the  hog  is  abused  in 
this  matter  ?  Is  n't  it  clear  that  he  is  not  so  hogfjish — that  is  an 
adjective,  you  know,  which  the  common  and  almost  universal  sen- 
timent of  mankind  has  coined — as  some  of  the  gentlemen  you 
entertain  at  your  table,  and  to  whom  you  assign  the  seat  of  honor 
at  your  fire-side  ?  I'll  say  nothing  now  of  another  class  of  gentle- 
men, who  outroll  the  liog  in  the  muddy  gutters  of  your  streets, 
after  drinking  away  their  brains  at  a  tavern  or  dram-shop. 

"  But  the  hog  is  lazy^ 

I  declare  to  you,  honestly  and  frankly,  that  I  don't  see  how  that 
personage  could  reasonably  hope  to  be  acquitted  on  this  charge 
by  any  jury  of  twelve  men  in  America.  But  he  is  fat ;  he  may 
not  be  absolutely  and  flagrantly  to  blame  for  that ;  and  fat  people 
can't  be  expected  to  be  as  active  in  their  habits  as  leaner  ones. 
If  it  be  a  crime  to  be  fat — and  some  of  you,  I  know,  will  not  take 
that  ground — then  blaze  away  at  the  hog's  laziness.  If  it  be  not 
a  crime,  in  your  estimation,  you  had  better  reserve  your  fire  for 
other  sins  and  other  sinners. 

"  There's  another  thing,  too.  The  hog  has  a  most  disgusting 
grunV 

Well,  he  does  grunt  some.  But  I  can  show  you  dozens  of 
men — women  we'll  leave  out  of  the  account  altogether  ;  they  are 
a  privileged  class — who  will  outgi-unt  any  hog  in  Christendom. 
They  are  grunters  by  pi-ofession,  while  your  hog  only  grunts  occa- 
sionally and  incidentally,  as  a  cat  purrs  when  she  is  particularly 


AX  APOLOGY   FOR   HOGS.  155 


pleased  about  something,  when  the  temple  of  Janus  in  Catland  is 
dosed,  and  she  feels  herself  at  peace  with  all  the  woild.  These 
human  grunters  drive  their  trade  at  all  times,  through  thick  and 
thin.  Tiiey  grunt  when  they  are  sick  and  when  they  are  getting 
better — though,  in  fact,  they  never  do  get  better — when  they  are 
at  home  and  when  tliey  are  abroad ;  by  land  and  by  sea ;  when 
it  is  warm  and  when  it  is  cold  ;  when  it  rains  and  when  it  shines ; 
in  the  city  and  in  the  country  ;  when  they  are  young  and  when 
they  are  old  ;  when  they  are  awake  and — your  gi-unter  always 
snores — when  they  are  asleep.  I  know  a  good,  sensible  lady  who 
lives  with  such  a  man  as  this,  aye,  and  loves  him  too,  and  yet  she 
cannot  bear  a  hog,  because  he — grunts  I 

Xow  tell  me,  reader,  if  you  don't  consider  these  charges  against 
the  hog  family  as  rather  flimsy  and  frivolous  ?  I  know  you  do. 
ril  not  wait  for  an  answer,  because  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  you 
are  both  thoughtful  and  sensible  ;  and  I  am  not  able  to  see  how 
you  can  be  both  and  not  agree  with  me. 

But  I  am  prepared  to  go  farther  than  this  in  my  apology  for 
the  hogs.  I  count  them  as  having  many  amiable  and  praisewor- 
thy traits  of  character.  Did  you  ever  notice  how  a  whole  frater- 
nity of  hogs  will  act,  when  one  of  their  number  is  in  trouble  ? 
They  will  all,  to  the  veriest  pig  among  them,  with  all  the  laziness 
and  the  selfishness  which  we  are  in  the  habit  of  ascribing  to 
them,  crowd  around  their  suffering  companion,  and  try  to  rescue 
him.  Failing  in  this,  they  will  at  least  show  him  that  their  hearts 
(I  use  this  word  for  want  of  a  better  one  ;  if  you  have  one  that 
expresses  my  meaning  and  suits  you  better,  substitute  it)  are  over- 
flowing with  sympathy  for  his  woes.  I  have  seen  a  dog,  who 
tried  to  show  his  wit  by  teasing  a  small  pig,  running  away  from 
the  scene  of  his  exploits,  wdiining  most  ingloriously,  with  a  useful 
lesson  bitten  into  his  neck  by  some  indignant  elderly  hog,  the 
whole  troop  setting  up  a  sort  of  hog  laugh  at  the  cur's  expense. 

There  is  a  very  respectable  amount  of  intelligence  about  the 
hog,  too.  One  of  those  very  animals  that  I  mentioned  as  passing 
my  window  in  the  beginning  of  this  apology — and  that  reminds 
me  that  I  have  pretty  nearly  used  up  the  number  of  minutes  I 
allotted  to  this  topic — a  very  veteran  of  a  hog,  knows  when  a  cold, 


156  AN  APOLOGY  FOR  HOGS. 


easterly  storm  is  coming  on  better  than  you  or  I  do ;  and  when 
she  has  fully  made  up  her  mind  that  there  is  something  of  the  sort 
brewing,  she  will  go  straight  to  jier  quarters  under  cover,  and  see 
if  the  bed  is  in  good  order,  wisely  reflecting,  it  is  to  be  presumed, 
that  an  easterly  storm  lasts  sometimes  two  or  three  days,  and  con- 
sequently that  it  is  desirable  to  have  a  good  snug  harbor  during 
that  time.  Nor  is  this  all.  If  the  bed  is  not  in  good  order,  she 
will  hunt  up  bits  of  straw  and  leaves,  and  carry  them  in  her  mouth 
to  make  her  bed  withal. 

Some  years  ago,  I  made  a  visit  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  find- 
ing a  cosy  place  there,  quite  to  my  mind,  I  spent  a  week  or 
more  in  that  vicinity.  While  there,  I  had  occasion  to  notice  the 
movements  of  sundry  hogs  who  came  down  to  the  beach  at  low 
tide,  to  feed  upon  the  clams  which  abound  in  the  sand.  You  are 
aware  that  the  tide  rises  from  thirty  to  forty  feet  in  that  part  of 
the  country.  The  consequence  of  this  great  rise  is,  that  it  must 
come  in  and  recede  very  rapidly.  So  swift,  indeed,  does  it  rise, 
that  cattle  unacquainted  with  the  state  of  things,  not  unfroquently 
get  overtaken  by  the  water,  and  drowned.  The  old  hogs  in  those 
parts,  however,  get  accustomed  to  the  tide.  They  find  out  not 
only  that  it  "  waits  for  no  man,"  but  that  it  waits  for  no  hog. 
One  day,  while  I  was  on  the  beach,  I  saw  a  regiment  of  hogs,  as 
busy  as  they  could  be  rooting  for  clams  and  feasting  on  them. 
Watching  them  carefully,  I  could  not  help  noticing  that  several 
of  their  number  ever  and  anon  placed  one  ear  close  to  the  ground, 
in  the  attitude  of  listening.  They  would  remain  in  this  position  a 
moment  or  two,  and  then  go  on  digging  clams.  At  length,  one 
cunning  old  fellow,  after  listening  an  instant,  uttered  that  well- 
known  hog-note  of  alarm,  and  oft'  he  and  the  whole  regiment  ran 
at  the  top  of  their  speed,  out  of  the  reach  of  the  tide.  When  I 
placed  my  ear  near  the  ground  as  the  hogs  did,  I  discovered  what 
they  discovered,  and  what  I  did  not  know  before — the  roar  of  the 
tide  coming  in  ;  and  I  found  it  necessary  to  retreat  about  as 
speedily  as  they  had  done.     What  do  you  think  of  that,  reader? 


THE   MORNING   GLORY. 


15V 


'•r>. 


THE  MOENIXa  GLOEY. 

It  opened  upon  its  light  stem 

To  greet  the  soft  bhisbes  of  morning  ; 

'Twas  a  pearl  in  the  beautiful  diadem, 
The  brow  of  Aurora  adorning. 

I  mai-lced  it  when  all  things  around 

Were  glowing  with  noonday's  full  power. 

The  withered  corolla  had  dropped  to  the  ground  ; 
The  beauty  was  gone  from  the  flower. 

Even  such  is  youth's  promising  bloom, 

Which  the  fond  hopes  of  friendship  had  flattered. 
Ere  manhood,  oft  blighted,  it  lies  in  the  tomb, 

A  thing  most  unsightly  and  shattered. 

Yet  is  there  an  unfading  one. 

The  spirit,  an  amaranth  flower, 
Will  peacefully  open  to  heaven's  mild  sun, 

Secure  in  Love's  sheltering  bower. 


158 


ACROSS  THE  APENNINES. 


ACROSS  THE  APENNINES. 


MADE  two  visits  to  Florence,  Avliile  traveling  in  Italy — 
f^  one  on  my  way  to  Rome  and  Naples,  and  tlie  other  on 
my  return.  After  the  last  visit,  I  made  arrangements 
to  proceed  across  the  Apennines,  by  the  way  of  J^ologna 
and  Ferrara,  to  Venice.  The  distance  from  Florence  to  Bo- 
logna is  some  sixty  miles.  You  can  take  either  of  two  modes  of 
^  conveyance — the  diligence  or  the  vettura.  Having  had  some 
taste  of  the  latter,  in  my  trip  from  Florence  to  Rome,  and  having 
become  quite  satisfied  with  it,  I  chose  the  diligence  in  crossing  the 
Apennines.  I  suppose  you  have  all  heard  more  or  less  of  an  Ital- 
ian diligence,  though,  jiossibly,  you  may  not  have  a  very  definite 
idea  of  it.  The  diligence  is  directly  under  the  control  of  the  gov- 
ernment. A  line  of  stage  coaches  is  as  much  like  this  establish- 
ment as  anything  we  have  in  America,  though  the  two  are  managed 
very  differently.  The  vehicle  called  the  diligence  is  a  clumsy- 
looking,  lumbering  aftair — a  sort  of  feudal  castle  on  wheels,  or  a 
Yankee  stage-coach,  with  huge  warts  on  it.  It  is  divided  into 
three  and  sometimes  four  compartments,  which  go  by  Fi-ench  quite 
as  often  as  Italian  names.  The  interieur  holds  some  six  persons. 
The  rotond,  situated  behind  this,  you  might  suppose,  from  its  name, 
would  be  circular  in  its  shape,  but  that  is  not  the  case.  It  re- 
minded me  of  the  "  extension  rooms"  of  the  houses  in  New  York. 
It  is  rather  preferable  to  the  first-mentioned  compartment,  and  is 
capable  of  holding  three  persons,  and  sometimes  more.  The  coupe 
is  situated  on  the  same  floor,  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  vehicle. 
This,  too,  accommodates  three  passengers.  It  is  generally  regarded 
as  the  most  desirable  place  in  the  diligence,  and  it  always  com- 
mands the  highest  price.  It  is  open  in  front,  except  in  cold  or 
rainy  weather,  when  it  is  closed  by  a  glass  window,  so  that  it 
gives  one  an  excellent  opportunity  to  see  the  country  as  he  goes 
alon^.     The  banquette,  with   which  some,  though  not  all  of  the 


ACROSS  THE   APENNINES.  159 

Italian  diligences  are  provided,  is  situated  directly  above  the  coupe, 
and  holds  three  persons.  I  always  took  a  seat  in  it,  in  preference 
to  any  other  place,  when  there  was  one  for  me.  It  is  more  ele- 
vated, and  consequently  more  airy,  and  commanding  a  more  exten- 
sive view.  The  conductor  generally  sits  here,  so  that  there  is  room 
in  it  for  but  two  passengers.  However,  it  is  not  considered  a  very 
genteel  place,  and  that  class  of  travelers,  large  enough  every- 
where but  especially  so  in  Europe,  who  prefer  respectability  to 
comfort,  would  as  soon  be  guilty  of  taking  a  seat  in  a  kitchen  by 
the  side  of  a  cook,  in  New  York  or  Philadelphia,  as  a  place  in  the 
banquette  of  a  diligence,  by  the  side  of  a  conductor,  in  Florence 
or  Milan.  These  are  the  people  who  travel  because  it  is  considered 
genteel  to  travel,  and  who  stare  through  richly-mounted  opera- 
glasses  at  everything  respectable,  everything  which  is  duly  set  down 
in  Murray's  Hand-book',  and  who  would  not  deign  to  look  at  any- 
thing  else  for  a  small  kingdom.  A  sensible  English  lady  with 
whom  I  traveled  for  many  a  mile  in  Italy,  and  in  whose  pleasant 
company  I  saw  some  of  the  most  notable  things  on  the  eastern 
side  of  the  Alps,  always  chose  the  banquette,  when  she  could  ob- 
tain it.  She  chose  it  in  this  instance.  "  And  so  the  cat  is  out  of 
the  bag,  and  we  have  the  secret  of  your  preference  for  the  ban- 
qiletter  Well,  reader,  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  debate,  which 
would  naturally  retard  our  progress  across  the  Apennines,  I  will 
"own  up,"  as  we  Yankees  sometimes  say,  and  acknowledge  that, 
in  this  case,  the  company  of  the  English  lady  had  something  to  do 
with  my  choice.  To  deny  this,  would  be  to  confess  a  deplorable 
want  of  gallantry,  to  say  nothing  about  good  taste. 

I  said  something  about  the  conductor  a  moment  ago.  Do  not 
suppose  that  this  personage  is  identical  with  the  driver.  It  would 
make  an  Italian  smile,  the  idea  of  such  a  thing.  The  conductor's 
place  is  in  the  vehicle.  The  driver — or  rather,  drivers,  for  there 
are  generally  two  of  them — sit  astride  the  horses.  From  their 
costume,  you  might  mistake  them  for  military  men.  Tiiey  wear  a 
cockade,  and  their  pantaloons  are  striped  in  a  very  awful  manner. 
Moreover,  especially  when  they  have  some  buonamano  on  hand, 
and  have  imbibed  a  little  too  freely  the  martial  spirit,  they  show  a 
good  deal  of  the  "  pomp  and   circumstance  of  war."      At  sucli 


160  ACROSS   THE  APENNINES. 


times,  they  give  their  orders  to  the  horses  with  all  the  importance 
of  a  general  of  a  brigade.  Your  Italian,  by  the  way,  is  not  half  as 
polite  to  his  horse,  as  a  Frenchman.  The  latter  uses  very  nearly 
the  same  language  to  a  horse  as  he  would  to  a  companion  of  his 
own  species.  ^'-  En  route  P''  says  he,  when  he  wishes  his  beast  to 
set  out.  Sometimes,  even,  he  is  still  more  polite,  and  you  hear 
him  uttering  an  exhortation  to  his  horse  :  "  Marchons  /"  He  in- 
cludes himself,  as  preachers  sometimes  do  in  their  appeals,  and 
says,  "  Let  us  go  on  !"  Not  so  the  Italian.  You  have  heard  much 
of  the  "smoothness"  and  the  "euphony"  of  the  Italian  language. 
But  were  such  words  only  to  greet  your  ear  in  the  classic  vale  of 
the  Arno  as  those  uttered  by  the  drivers  of  a  diligence,  you  would 
say,  "  Give  me  any  dialect,  the  lowest  kind  of  Dutch,  even,  in  pref- 
erence to  this."  One  of  the  most  musical  of  the  ditforent  terms 
these  men  employ,  is  a  word  as  deeply  guttural  as  any  Hebrew  or 
German  could  wish.  I  never  saw  it  written  or  printed,  but  if  I 
were  going  to  represent  it  on  paper,  I  should  do  it  in  some  such 
form  as  ihh,  E-u-ghJc !  In  pronouncing  the  word,  the  reader  is 
particularly  desired  to  extend  his  jaws  rather  widely  at  the  close, 
and  to  dwell  on  the  consonants  as  long  as  his  breath  lasts. 

Did  I  not  mention  the  word  buonamano  ?  Well,  you  should 
know  what  that  means.  It  is  an  exceedingly  important  word  in 
Italy.  From  the  fact  that  those  who  are  in  your  employ  so  often 
put  their  finger  to  their  mouth,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  it 
might  be  presumed  that  it  meant  drink-money,  or  something  with 
which  the  fellows  might  buy  the  means  of  drinking  your  health. 
Nor  would  the  presumption  be  far  at  fault.  It  is  a  sum  which  the 
employer  gives  the  employed,  over  and  above  that  which  was 
stipulated  for  his  services,  and  which  bears  some  pi;oportion  both  to 
the  amount  of  the  service  and  the  manner  in  which  it  is  peiformed. 
Every  one  who  drives  you  a  mile  expects  something  in  the  way  of 
buonamano.  And  the  custom,  though  it  may  seem  to  you  unrea- 
sonable and  vexatious,  has  its  advantages,  as  the  hope  of  a  good 
fee  at  the  end  of  an  engagement  sometimes  stimulates  a  man  not 
a  little. 

In  Italy  you  cannot  set  out  on  any  such  journey  as  this  of  mine 
across  the  Apennines  without  a  strict  examination  of  passports.     If 


ACROSS   THE   APENNINES.  161 

a  man's  passport  is  not  signed  and  sealed  by  the  proper  officei-s  in 
the  city  he  is  leaving,  he  must  stay  behind,  or,  which  I  have  known 
done  more  than  once,  he  must  go  or  send  for  his  vise,  while  the 
diligence  waits  for  him.  The  passport  system  is  attended  with  a 
vast  deal  of  trouble  in  Europe.  But  "  what  cannot  be  cured,  must 
be  endured,"  and  there  is  no  use  in  being  vexed  with  such  an  ar- 
rangement and  letting  it  trouble  you. 

We  will  suppose  now  that  the  passports  are  all  pronounced  in 
order,  that  the  passengers  have  taken  their  seats,  that  the  baggage 
{luggage,  according  to  our  cousin  John  Bull)  is  arranged  on  the 
top  of  the  vehicle,  and  that  we  have  commenced  our  journey.  Our 
diligence  is  soon  placed  on  the  railway,  and  we  proceed  by  steam  a 
short  distance,  some  fifteen  miles  from  Florence.  A  fine  view  is 
presented,  as  we  proceed.  In  the  distance  is  the  city  of  Florence, 
with  its  imposing  spires,  and  domes,  and  campaniles,  as  well  as  its 
edifices  of  fewer  pretensions.  The  Arno,  too,  may  be  seen  for  a 
long  wa}',  wending  along  towards  the  sea.  Not  only  the  valley, 
but  the  hills  on  either  side,  abound  with  the  vine  and  the  olive, 
and  now  and  then  an  elegant  country  mansion  is  nestled  down 
among  a  profusion  of  trees,  overlooking  some  of  the  finest  scenery, 
probably,  in  the  whole  world. 

Anon  w^e  took  horses  again,  and  soon  commenced  climbing  the 
mountains  in  earnest.  The  road  in  many  places  is  excessively  steep. 
Our  progress  for  several  hours  was  very  slow — so  slow,  indeed,  that 
I  frequently  got  out  and  walked  a  mile  or  two.  The  scenery  of 
the  Apennines  is  often  picturesque  and  pleasing  ;  but  it  wants  the 
boldness  and  grandeur  of  the  Alps.  Some  of  the  valleys,  however, 
through  which  the  road  passes,  are  quite  beautiful.  It  is  interest- 
ing in  crossing^a  chain  of  mountains,  like  the  Apennines  and  the 
Alps,  to  watch  the  difierent  aspects  of  the  vegetation  as  you  ascend, 
and  then  again  on  the  opposite  slope,  as  you  are  descending.  It 
was  on  the  19th  of  May  that  I  set  out  from  Florence.  In  the  val- 
ley of  the  Arno  there  was  a  perfect  carnival  among  the  flowers. 
It  was  the  season  when  the  flower-girls,  a  numerous  class  in  that 
city,  were  driving  their  trade  most  vigorously.  I  could  not  stop  a 
moment  in  the  street,  much  less  sit  down  in  a  cafe,  to  take  a  cup 
of  coftee,  and  look  at  "  Galignani's  Messenger,"  without  being  ac- 


162  ACROSS  THE  APENNINES. 

costed  by  them,  always  courteously  and  with  the  utmost  decorum. 
They  never  sell  flowers.  They  only  give  them  away.  When  in 
a  hotel  or  cofi:ee  house  at  breakfast,  they  often  place  a  sprig  of 
mignonette  or  a  moss  rose  on  the  table  before  each  of  the  guests. 
True,  they  expect  or  hope  to  be  paid  eventually,  though  they  sel- 
dom or  never  dun  a  person  for  compensation. 

As  I  was  saying,  the  flowers  were  very  abundant  in  the  vale  of 
the  Arno,  when  we  left  Florence,  but  as  we  advanced  up  the  x\pen- 
nines,  they  became  more  and  more  scarce,  until  near  the  summit 
only  a  few,  and  those  of  a  stunted  and  comparatively  uninteresting 
character,  were  visible.  The  little  harebell  [Campanula  Rotundi- 
folia^  I  think,  is  its  botanical  name)  I  saw  on  both  slopes  of  the 
mountain,  almost  to  tlie  highest  point  in  our  route.  Indeed,  I 
scarcely  lost  sight  of  this  beautiful  wild  flower  for  a  single  day  in 
all  my  rambles  in  Europe.  The  modest  forget-me-not,  too,  was 
almost  a  constant  companion.  Among  the  Apennines,  I  saw  now 
and  then  a  flower  growing  wild,  and  appearing  very  much  at  home, 
which  in  America  are  exotics,  and  cultivated  in  our  gardens  and 
green-houses  as  very  choice  plants. 

We  knew  when  we  reached  the  summit,  by  observing  that  the 
little  streams  flowed  easterly,  or  towards  the  Adriatic,  instead  of 
the  opposite  direction,  or  towards  the  Mediterranean.  After  we 
began  to  descend,  our  progress  was  rapid  enough.  Though  it  was 
cool  on  the  sunmiit,  long  enough  before  we  reached  the  plain  be- 
low, it  was  excessively  hot,  and  we  all  ate  dust  sufficient  to  satisfy 
any  one  not  superlatively  unreasonable,  a  full  fortnight. 

At  this  point,  reader,  I  was  about  to  take  leave  of  you.  But  it 
occurred  to  me  that  possibly,  were  I  to  do  so,  you  would  conclude 
that  our  party  were  lost  in  the  cloud  of  dust  I  hav§  mentioned,  as 
travelers  sometimes  are  under  drifts  of  sand  in  Africa.  So  to  pre- 
vent the  possibility  of  any  such  erroneous  conclusion,  I  must  tell 
you  that  we  emerged  from  that  cloud  eventually,  and  in  due  time — 
that  is,  about  the  time  the  dew  began  to  lodge  upon  the  grass  by 
the  wayside — we  were  safely  set  down  at  the  head  quarters  of  the 
diligence  in  the  ancient  city  of  Bologna,  the  second  capital  of  the 
States  of  the  Church,  famous  for  beautiful  pictures,  long,  covered 
porticoes,  leaning  towei-s,  and — sausages.     I  proceeded,  as  soon  as 


A  SINGULAR   LAW.  163 


the  passport  regulations  would  allow  me,  to  the  Grande  Alhergo 
Svissero,  or  the  Great  Swiss  Hotel,  where  I  found  everybody,  from 
the  landlord  to  the  lowest  servant,  in  the  highest  possible  state  of 
excitement,  owing  to  the  arrival,  a  moment  or  two  before,  of  a  son 
(the  oldest,  I  think,)  of  the  czar  of  Russia,  with  his  suite.  On  ac- 
count of  the  advent  of  this  august  personage,  everything  about  the 
establishment  was  in  confusion.  The  prince  was  the  sun  in  that 
firmament  for  the  time  being.  All  the  waiters  were  his  satellites. 
The  whole  army  of  them  revolved  around  him,  as  a  central  lumi- 
naiy,  and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that  a  plain  republican,  as  I 
must  have  appeared,  succeeded  in  attracting  any  one  of  them  out 
of  this  orbit  long  enough  to  show  me  to  a  room.  However,  I  did 
succeed.  Perseverance  and  patience — two  graces  for  which  the 
Yankees  are  everywhere  noted,  to  say  nothing  about  a  spice  of 
impudence,  with  which  they  have  been  charged — achieve  great  re- 
sults all  over  the  world. 


A  SINGULAR  LAW. 

I  WONDER  how  "Brother  Jonathan"  would  like  to  have  a  law 
passed  here  in  this  country,  regulating  the  expenses  of  individual 
citizens,  and  telling  him  how  many  dresses  his  wife  might  have  at 
one  time.  I  venture  to  guess  that  he  would  be  as  cross  as  a 
hyena  about  it.  Yet  such  a  thing  has  been  done  in  more  than 
one  country,  and  at  different  epochs  in  the  world's  history  too. 
During  the  reign  of  Philip  IV.  of  France,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
fxirteenth  century,  it  was  decreed  by  law,  that  no  duke,  count,  or 
baron,  possessing  a  territorial  manor  of  six  thousand  livii^  should 
have  more  than  four  robes  a  year,  and  their  wives  as  many  ;  pre- 
lates and  knights  were  restricted  to  two,  an  esquire  two,  a  back- 
elor  one,  and  every-woman,  single  or  married,  who  had  less  than 
two  thousand  livres  a  year,  in  land,  one.  No  citizen's  wife  was 
permitted  to  have  a  carriage,  or  to  be  lighted  home  at  night  with 
waxen  torches ;  neither  she  nor  her  husband  was  permitted  to  wear  ex- 
pensive furs,  or  gold,  or  precious  stones,  or  crowns  of  gold  and  silver. 


164 


POWER  OF  THE  MIND  OVER  THE  BODY^ 


POWER  OF  THE  MIKD  OYER  THE  BODY. 


J>.  ANY  good  people  have  an  undue  diead  of  death. 
Though  their  life  is  exemphirv,  and  they  give  the 
best  of  evidence  that  they  are  prepared  for  an- 
other world,  they  live  in  a  state  of  trembling  anxiety 

"^-,  respecting  their  dying  hour.  Such  persons  ought  to  re- 
'^  member  that  the  Lord  provides  for  all  these  cases.  It  is 
a  fact  of  which  any  one  can  assure  himself,  who  will  take  the 
trouble,  that  when  the  mind  is  filled  with  any  great  emotion,  the 
body  scarcely  feels  pain  at  all  ;  and  it  frequently  happens  that,  at 
the  moment  of  deatlf^^lfc  Christian  is  elevated  beyond  measure  with 
love  to  God  and  hope  of  heaven. 

In  a  biographical  notice,  giving  an  account  of  the  last  days  of  a 
good  man,  who  was  distinguished  for  his  serene  and  lofty  faith,  he 
is  reported  as  saying,  "  I  appear  to  suffer,  but  I  do  not.  It  seems 
as  if  some  angel  were  standing  by  me,  he  bearing  all  the  pain,  and 
this  poor  body  of  mine  only  exhibiting  the  outward  signs  of  it." 

A  striking  instance  of  the  same  kind  occurred  not  long  since,  as 
I  learn  from  undoubted  authority.  A  lady  of  exalted  piety  was 
suffering  from  protracted  and  fatal  sickness,  and  at  certain  intervals 
there  came  spasms  and  convulsions,  giving  externally  all  the  symp- 
toms of  intolerable  agony.  Once  when  these  spasms  were  evidently 
coming  on,  and  her  friends  were  bending  over  with  anxious  faces, 
she  looked  up  with  a  sweet  tranquil  smile,  and  said,  "Do  not  be 
troubled  about  me.  You  think  I  suffer  extremely,  but  I  do  not.  I 
know  not  how  it  is,  but  somehow  when  these  convulsions  come, 
there  comes  with  them  a  sense  of  Divine  presence,  an  inward  power, 
that  takes  upon  itself  the  burden  of  my  suffeiings  ;  and  these 
spasms  are  only  an  appearance. 

Here  you  see,  plainly  enough,  the  truth  of  what  I  told  you  at 


I 


y 


EARLY   RISING.  167 


first — that  there  is  a  most  beautiful  and  beneficent  law,  that  when 
the  mind  is  exalted  with  great  thoughts,  or  filled  with  an  all- 
absorbing  love,  the  body  becomes  less  sensible  to  its  infirmities  and 
sufi'erings  and  sometimes  forgets  them  altogetlier.  Even  our  natu- 
ral affections  and  passions  have  power,  though  in  a  limited  degree, 
of  suspending  our  bodily  sensation.  A  mother,  who  a  little  while 
ago  was  pale  and  drooping  under  the  smallest  burdens,  is  by-and- 
bye  seen  hanging  over  the  bed  of  her  stricken  child,  and  how 
changed  from  what  she  was  !  Her  countenance  that  was  so  pale, 
now  beams  with  life,  and  the  arm  that  hung  down  is  nerved  with 
eneigy.  The  astronomer  in  his  starry  observations  becomes  free 
of  the  body ;  and  cold,  hunger,  and  fatigue  are  alike  forgotten. 
But  religious  faith,  when  warm  and  clear,  and  its  eye  open  wide 
on  immortality,  elevates  and  changes  all  our  attections,  and  then  it 
reacts  upon  the  whole  frame,  and  sends  the  tranquilizing  influence 
alonof  all  its  nerves. 


EAELY  Eisma. 


A  TALENTED  physician  remarks  that  "  Early  rising  is  the  stepping 
etone  to  all  that  is  great  and  good.  Both  the  mind  and  the  body 
are  invigorated  by  the  practice,  and  much  valuable  time  is  gained 
that  is  lost  to  the  sluggard.  It  is  the  basis  upon  which  health  and 
wealth  are  founded.  The  early  morning  is  the  best  period  for  re- 
flection and  study,  for  it  is  then,  after  refieshing sleep,  that  the  mind 
is  most  vigorous  and  calm.  The  statesman,  as  well  as  the  merchant, 
arranges  his  plans  for  the  coming  day,  and  all  passes  smoothly  ; 
while  he  who  wastes  his  morning  in  bed,  loses  much  of  that  most  val- 
uable commodity — time — which  is  never  regained.  Early  rising  will 
often  make  the  poor  man  rich,  the  contrary  will  too  often  beggar  the 
wealthiest.  It  will  do  much  towards  making  the  weak  strong,  and 
the  reverse  will  enfeeble  the  strongest.  Second  sleep  very  naturally 
produces  headache  and  languor.  There  is  nothing  more  true  than 
that  '  He  who  loses  an  hour  in  the  morning,  is  seeking  it  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day.'  " 


168       A  LESSOX  FROM  THE  CORAL  REEF. 


A  LESSON  FEOM  THE  COEAL  REEF. 

Far  where  the  smooth  Pacific  swells, 

Beneath  an  arch  of  blue, 
Where  sky  and  wave  together  meet, 

A  coral  reeflet  grew. 

No  mortal  eye  espied  it  there, 

Nor  sea-bird  poised  on  high  ; 
Lonely  it  sprang,  and  lonely  grew, 

The  nursling  of  the  sky. 

With  soft,  caressing  touch,  the  wind 

In  summer  round  it  played ; 
And,  murmuring  through  its  tiny  caves, 

Unceasing  music  made. 

The  ministering  wind,  so  sweet 
With  mountain  perfume,  brought 

A  changeful  robe  of  emerald  moss. 
By  fairy  fingers  wrought. 

Thus  day  by  day,  and  year  by  year, 

The  little  islet  grew  : 
Its  food,  the  flower-dust  wafted  by ; 

Its  drink,  the  crystal  dew. 

By  night  the  lonely  stars  looked  forth, 
Each  from  his  watch-tower  high. 

And  smiled  a  loving  blessing  down 
Gently  and  silently. 

And  forest-birds  from  distant  isles 

A  moment  settled  there  ; 
And  from  their  plumage  shook  the  seeds, 

Then  sprang  into  the  air. 

The  islet  grew,  and  tender  plants 

Rose  up  amidst  the  dearth, — 
Bloomed,  died,  and  dropped  upon  the  soil, 

Like  gifts  from  heaven  to  earth. 


GOD  CARETH  FOR  THE  CHILDREN.        169 


Thus  ages  passed :  a  hundred  trees 
Graced  that  once-barren  strand  ; 

A  hundred  ships  its  produce  bore 
To  many  a  distant  land. 

And  thus  in  every  human  heart 

A  gem  of  good  is  sown, 
Whose  strivings  upward  to  the  light 

Are  seen  by  God  alone. 


GOD  CARETH  FOR  THE  CHILDREN. 

God  careth  for  the  children, 

The  children  of  the  poor ; 
For  them  he  bids  the  little  flowers 

Blossom  upon  the  moor. 
Spring  up  beneath  the  shady  hedge 

And  on  the  green  hill  side, 
And  'mid  the  gently-waving  grass 

Their  modest  beauty  hide. 

God  careth  for  the  children, 

The  children  of  the  poor ; 
For  them  the  little  songsters 

Chirp  round  the  cottage  door ; 
All  through  the  long,  long  summer  days, 

Warble  their  music  wild ; 
In  winter,  feed  upon  the  crumbs 

Thrown  by  the  peasant  child. 

God  careth  for  the  children. 

The  children  of  the  poor ; 
And  happily  they  live,  although 

Neglected  and  obscure. 
Upspringing  like  the  daisies, 

Contented  they  may  be, 
For  He  who  careth  for  the  birds, 

Watcheth  them  lovingly.  gektrude. 

VOL.  IV.  8  oc 


170 


HOW   CATS   AND   DOGS   MAY   AGREE. 


now  CATS  AND  DOGS  MAY  AGREE. 


BY    J.    r.    M'CORD. 


I  DARE  say,  dear  reader,  you  have  heard  the  remark,  occasion- 
ally, in  relation  to  certain  characters,  "  They  quarrel  like  cats  and 
dogs."  There  is  good  ground,  in  the  conduct  of  those  two  hostile 
tribes,  for  such  a  comparison.  Dogs  are  disposed  to  be  cross  to 
cats,  and  cats  are  apt  to  put  up  their  backs,  to  spit  and  scratch, 
when  dogs  come  near  them.  The  scenes  exhibited,  where  a  couple 
of  such  quarrelsome  creatures  live  together,  are  not  at  all  like  any 
which  occurred  in  Eden,  in  the  period  of  innocence  and  love.  The 
dog  will  not  bear  anything  from  the  cat,  nor  the  cat  from  the  dog. 
Each  throws  out  from  the  corner  of  the  eye  suspicious  glances  at 
the  other,  keeps  a  strict  watch  over  personal  honor  and  rights,  and 
pretends  to  be  insulted,  in  cases  in  which  no  insult,  or  even  slight, 
was  intended.  The  state  of  affairs  is  often  much  w^orse.  The  do(f 
chases  the  cat  about  the  premises,  and  would  shake  her  very  heart 
out  of  her,  if  he  could  only  get  her  between  his  teeth.     When  she 


HOW   CATS   ASD   DOGS   MAY  AGREE.  171 

turns  upon  him  and  gives  him  battle,  as  she  sometimes  gathers 
courage  enough  to  do,  there  is  such  growling,  and  snarling,  and 
barking,  and  wauling,  as  might  frighten  all  the  mice  and  rats  in  the 
neiirhborhood  out  of  their  wits,  or  cause  them  to  flee  to  some  more 
peaceable  quarters.  Should  they  happen  to  be  in  the  room  with 
the  family,  and,  under  the  impulse  of  sudden  rage,  open  the  con- 
flict there,  what  an  intolerable  confusion  !  They  have  not  the  least 
care  how  much  noise  they  make,  nor  what  mischief  they  do.  They 
tumble  about  on  the  carpet,  knock  down  chairs,  and  turn  over 
flower-pots,  and  whatever  else  happens  to  be  in  their  way.  The 
baby  screams  in  terror,  and  grown  people  can  hardly  tell  whether 
their  heads  are  on  their  shoulders  or  not,  till  some  one  takes  the 
tongs  or  broomstick,  and  drives  the  unmannerly  creatures  out  of 
doors. 

Such  dogs  and  cats,  I  am  sure,  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  them- 
selves. Perhaps  they  do  blush  a  little,  or  feel  like  skulking  off  out 
of  sight,  when  they  have  come  out  of  their  mad  fit,  and  reflect 
calmly  and  seriously  on  their  conduct.  "What  shall  be  said,  then, 
of  those  boys  and  girls,  of  those  men  and  women,  who,  though  be- 
longing to  a  more  intelligent  race,  show  a  similar  disposition  ?  I 
would  recommend  them  to  take  particular  notice  of  dogs  and  cats 
of  another  description.  There  are  some  of  these  animals  that  re- 
call to  one's  mind  the  friendship  of  David  and  Jonathan.  They 
never  exchange  a  crabbed  growl,  or  cross  look ;  and  never  seem  to 
act  as  if  they  were  thinking  exclusively  of  their  own  interests. 
One  does  not  assume  to  be  superior  to  the  other,  or  to  have  the 
best  right  to  stroll  around  the  domestic  domain.  They  show  mu- 
tual respect ;  they  are  fond  of  one  another's  company ;  they  are 
equals  in  sport ;  they  share  the  same  bed  by  the  fire ;  and  each 
looks  on  without  grudging,  while  the  other  eats  his  dinner. 

I  became  familiar  with  a  remarkable  case  of  this  kind,  during 
my  late  sojourn  in  central  Pennsylvania.  It  is  the  very  thing  I 
proposed  to  mention,  when  I  commenced  this  article.  I  have  been 
rather  too  long  in  getting  to  it ;  still,  if  what  I  have  been  saying 
shall  be  of  the  least  advantage  to  you,  why,  so  much  better  than 
if  I  had  not  said  it. 

In  the  case  referred  to  just  now,  the  dog  was  a  famous  fellow, 


172  HOW   CATS   AND   DOGS    MAY   AGREE. 

and  had  been  taught  to  perform  a  great  many  wonderful  feats.  He 
was  five  times  older  than  the  cat  who  was  his  companion.  He  had 
felt  the  frosts  of  fifteen  winters  at  least.  Yet,  though  there  was  so 
much  difference  in  age,  the  two  were  on  as  intimate  terms  as  two 
little  children  of  the  same  household.  Each  manifested  consider- 
able uneasiness  when  the  other  was  absent,  walking  about  with  a 
disconsolate  air,  and  anxiously  searching  every  corner  wliere  the 
missing  companion  might  possibly  be  found.  On  joining  each 
other  again,  there  were  signs  of  pleasure  on  both  sides  ;  the  cat 
would  rub  her  sides  aflectionately  against  the  dog,  and  the  dog 
would  wag  his  tail,  and  cast  upon  her  a  look  of  warm  regard. 
They  were  often  laid  down  together;  and  it  was  the  peculiar  man- 
ner in  which  they  reposed,  that  fiist  struck  me,  and  called  my  at- 
tention to  their  intimacy.  Sometimes  the  lesser  animal  would 
coil  herself  up  at  the  back  of  the  larger  ;  most  commonly,  however, 
she  took  her  position  right  upon  his  side,  a  little  forward  of  the 
flank.  I  have  seen  her  go  through  the  operation  of  making  her 
bed,  before  lying  down — clawing  up  the  shaggy  coat  of  her  friend, 
and  working  it  over,  to  make  it  as  soft  as  possible — he  meanwhile 
remaining  quiet,  and  oflering  not  the  least  objection  to  the  singular 
process.  It  was  an  interesting  sight,  to  see  one  piled  upon  the 
other,  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  peaceable  nap.  When  the  weather 
was  cool,  that  manner  of  sleeping  must  have  been  quite  agreeable 
to  both  ;  though,  doubtless,  the  advantage  was  by  many  degrees 
on  the  side  of  the  cat.  She  would  have  had  to  search  a  good 
while,  I  think,  before  finding  another  so  comfortable  a  bed.  Not 
even  a  buffalo  skin  could  equal  it,  unless  it  had  beneath  it  the  live, 
warm  flesh  of  the  animal. 

It  was  clear  to  my  mind,  in  the  light  of  that  example,  how  cats 
and  dogs  may  live  together.  Peace  may  be  preserved  among  them, 
indeed,  by  keeping  them  apart,  and  confining  each  hostile  tribe  to 
its  own  quarters.  That  remedy,  however,  like  many  other  very 
effectual  ones,  cannot  well  be  applied  in  all  cases.  It  is  often  con- 
venient and  necessary,  to  have  a  couple  of  those  animals  attached 
to  the  same  family ;  and  how,  in  such  a  case,  they  may  get  along 
amicably,  and  without  annoyance  or  detriment  to  any  concerned, 
is  the  important  point  to  be  determined.     There  is  an  excellent  way 


THE   KING  AND   THE   JUDGE.  173 


of  doing  the  thing.  Having  seen  it  tried,  with  happy  effect,  I  can 
recommend  it  with  a  good  conscience.  In  the  first  place,  the  cat 
and  the  dog  must  both  have  a  disposition  and  form  a  purpose  to 
treat  each  other  with  uniform  kindness.  Then,  they  must  not  fail 
to  have  their  conduct  agree  with  their  good  disposition  and  pur- 
pose. The  dog  must  never  bark  nor  snarl  at  the  cat,  and  the  cat 
must  never  strike  nor  spit  at  the  dog.  One  must  not  interfere  with 
the  rii^hts  of  the  other.  Each  should  have  his  own  dish  to  eat  out 
of,  and,  on  all  occasions,  be  good-natured,  obliging,  and  generous. 

Have  you  got  my  idea,  reader  ?     If  you  have,  it  may  be  of  use 
to  you,  some  day  or  other. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  JUDGE. 

There  is  a  capital  story  told  of  Ernest,  king  of  Hanover,  by 
Mr.  Brace,  in  his  entertaining  book  on  "  Social  Life  in  Germany." 
The  story  is  thus  : 

It  is  related  of  the  king,  that  a  poor  countryman  applied  one 
day  for  an  audience,  and,  according  to  the  rule  that  no  one  should 
be  refused,  was  admitted.  The  man  complained  that  the  judge 
of  his  village  neglected  his  duties — left  the  business  with  the 
clerk — and  was  amusing  himself  with  hunting  and  sports,  so  that 
the  poor  could  not  get  their  rights. 

Ernest  heard  him  through — said  nothing — but  before  the  coun- 
tryman could  have  fairly  reached  the  city  gates,  was  posting  in  a 
private  carriage,  as  fast  as  horses  would  carry  him,  to  the  village 
of  the  unfortunate  judge.  The  carriage  stopped  before  the  court. 
The  king,  in  citizen's  dress,  rushed  up  the  steps,  demanded  the 
judge,  and  found  that  he  was  engaged  as  described ;  called  for  the 
clerk,  and  substantiated  everything  through  him  ;  sat  down  and 
wrote  off  something  hastily  on  a  bit  of  paper,  and  handed  it  to 
the  clerk,  and  was  rattling  off  again  in  his  carriage.  The  clerk, 
to  his  amazement,  on  opening  the  paper,  found  that  it  contained 
an  order  for  the  dismission  of  the  judge,  and  his  own  appointment 
in  his  place,  signed  with  the  name  of  the  king  of  Hanover ! 


174 


THE    PORCUPINE. 


•^^^.  _--.- 


THE  PORCUPINE. 


A  GREAT  many  things  have  been  said  about  the  porcupine  which 
are  fabulous ;  and  I  suppose  my  readers  would  like  to  know  what 
to  believe  and  what  to  disbelieve.  The  common  porcupine  of  Eu- 
rope is  about  two  feet  long,  and  covered  with  long  spines  or  (piills. 
In  defending  itself,  its  usual  mode  is  to  lie  on  one  side  and  roll  over 
upon  its  enemy.  It  has  been  represented  as  being  a  ferocious 
animal,  inclined,  like  Iludibras,  to  get  into  a  quarrel  with  every 
creature  it  meets.  But  such  is  far  from  -the-  case.  It  defends 
itself  when  it  is  attacked — and  who  can  blame  it  for  so  doing  ? — 
yet  it  seldom  acts  on  the  offensive.  The  finest  specimens  of  the 
porcupine  which  I  ever  saw  were  at  the  "Zoological  Gardens  in 
London.  They  were  quite  harmless,  and  very  pfayful.  An  Eng- 
lishman had  a  tame  porcupine  and  a  hunting  leopard,  which  he 


ORIGIN   OF   SPECTACLES.  175 

used  often  to  turn  out  together,  in  company  with  a  Newfoundland 
dog,  to  play  on  a  lawn  behind  his  house.  No  sooner  were  the  dog 
and  leopard  released,  than  they  began  to  chase  the  porcupine,  who 
uniformly,  at  the  outset,  tried  to  escape  by  flight ;  but  when  he 
found  that  there  was  no  chance  of  his  getting  away,  he  would 
thrust  his  head  into  some  corner,  and  erect  his  spines,  making  a 
snorting  noise  as  he  did  so.  His  pursuers,  if  they  happened^  be 
running  pretty  swiftly  at  the  time,  would  sometimes  come  with 
full  force  against  the  porcupine's  quills,  in  which  case  they  got  their 
noses  badly  pricked.  A  wound  from  the  porcupine's  quill  is  \'«ry 
difficult  to  cure.  There  seems  to  be  something  poisonous  in  the 
quill.  I  have  heard  of  a  man  in  South  Africa,  who  was  pricked  in 
the  leg  by  one  of  their  quills,  and  who  w^as  ill  for  upwards  of  six 
months  afterwards.  The  quills  of  this  animal  are  from  ten  to 
fourteen  inches  long,  tapering  and  sharp  at  each  end.  Each  quill 
is  largest  in  the  middle,  and  inserted  into  the  animal's  skin  in  the 
same  manner  that  feathers  grow  upon  birds.  It  is  of  different 
colors,  white  and  black  being  alternated  the  whole  length  of  the 
quill.  The  porcupine  feeds  both  upon  animals  and  Vegetables. 
Travelers  in  Africa  assure  us  that  there  is  an  inveterate  enmity  be- 
tween the  serpent  and  the  jDorcupine,  and  that  they  never  meet 
without  a  deadly  engagement. 


OKIGIISr  OF  SPECTACLES. 

Spectacles  first  became  known  about  the  beginning  of  the  four- 
teenth century  ;  an  inscription  on  the  tomb  of  a  nobleman,  Salvi- 
nus  Armatus,  of  Florence,  who  died  1317,  states  that  he  was  the 
inventor.  The  person,  however,  who  first  made  the  invention  pub- 
lic, was  Alexander  Spina,  a  native  of  Pisa.  He  happened  to  see 
a  pair  of  spectacles  in  the  hands  of  a  person  who  would  not,  or 
could  not,  explain  the  principle  of  them  to  him  ;  but  he  succeeded 
in  making  a  pair  for  himself,  and  immediately  made  their  construc- 
tion public  for  the  good  of  others. 


176 


HOW    TO    RISE    IX    THE    WOKLD. 


HOW  TO  KISE  IN  THE  WOELD. 


T  is  astonishing'  what  wonders  industry  and  persever- 
ance will  accomplish  in  the  world.  Here  is  a  tale  so 
marvelous,  that  you  would  all  call  it  fictitious,  if  I  were 
not  to  assure  you,  as  I  must,  that  it  is  strictly  true. 

It  is  a  tale  of  George  Wilson,  professor  of  mathematics  in 

Russia. 

A  few  years  since,  as  Mr.  Gallaudet,  a  gentleman  of  fine 
education  and  unusual  generosity,  was  walking  in  the  streets  of 
Hartford,  Connecticut,  where  he  resided,  there  came  running  to  him 
a  poor  boy,  of  very  ordinary  appearance,  but  whose  fine,  intelligent 
eye  fixed  the  attention  of  the  gentleman,  as  the  boy  inquired,  "Sir, 
can  you  tell  me  of  a  man  who  would  like  a  boy  to  work  for  him, 
and  teach  ^liiTi  to  read  ?"     "  Whose  boy  are  you,  and  where  do  you 
live  ?"     "  I  have  no  parents,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  have  just  run 
away  from  the  workhouse  because  they  would  not  teach  me  to 
read."     The  gentleman  made  arrangements  with  the  authorities  of 
the  town,  and  took  the  boy  into  his  own  family.     There  he  learned 
to  read.     Nor  was  this  all.     He  soon  acquired   the  confidence  of 
his  new  associates,  by  faithfulness  and  honesty.     He  was  allowed 
the  use  of  his  friend's  library,  and  made  rapid  progress  in  the  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge.     It  became  necessary  after  a  while,  that 
George  should  leave  Mr.  Gallaudet,  and  he  became  apprenticed  to] 
a  cabinet-maker  in  the   neighborhood.     There  the  same  integrity] 
won  for  him  the  favor  of  his  new  associates.     To  gratify  his  incli-j 
nation  for  study,  his  master  had  a  little  room  finished  for  him  inj 
the  upper  part  of  the  shop,  where  he  devoted  his  leisure  time  toj 
his  favorite  pursuits.     Here  he  made  large  attainments  in  mathe-! 
matics,  in  the  French  language,  and  other  branches.     After  being^^i 
in  this  situation  a  few  years,  as  he  sat  at  tea  with  the  family  one- 
evening,   he   all   at   once   remarked    that   he   wanted    to   go   to' 
France. 


HOW   TO   RISE   IX   THE   WORLD.  177 

"  Go  to  France  !"  said  his  master,  surprised  that  the  apparently 
contented  and  happy  youth  had  thus  suddenly  become  dissatisfied 
with  his  situation — "  for  what  ?" 

"  Ask  Mr.  Gallaudet  to  tea,  to-morrow  evening,"  continued 
George,  "  and  I  will  explain." 

His  kind  friend  was  invited  accordingly.  At  tea-time  the  ap- 
prentice presented  himself  with  his  manuscripts,  in  Englisj^  and 
French,  and  explained  his  singular  intention  to  go  to  France. 

'•  In  the  time  of  Xapoleon,"  said  he,  "  a  prize  was  offered  by  the 
French  government  for  the  simplest  rule  of  measuring  plane  sur- 
faces, of  whatever  outline.  The  prize  has  never  been  awarded,  and 
that  method  I  have  discovered." 

He  then  demonstrated  his  problem,  to  the  surprise  and  gratifica- 
tion of  his  friends,  who  immediately  furnished  him  with  the  means 
of  defraying  his  expenses,  and  with  letters  of  introduction  to  Hon. 
Lewis  Cass,  then  our  Minister  to  the  Court  of  France.  He  was 
introduced  to  Louis  Phillipe,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  King  and 
nobles,  and  plenipotentiaries,  this  American  youth  demonstrated 
his  problem,  and  received  the  plaudits  of  the  court.  He  received 
the  prize,  which  he  had  clearly  won,  besides  valuable  presents  from 
the  king. 

He  then  took  letters  of  introduction,  and  proceeded  to  the  Court 
of  St.  James,  and  took  up  a  similar  prize,  offered  by  the  Royal  So- 
ciety, and  returned  to  the  United  States.  Here  he  was  preparing 
to  secure  the  benefit  of  his  discovery  by  patent,  when  he  received  a 
letter  from  the  Emperor  Nicholas  himself,  one  of  whose  ministers 
had  witnessed  his  demonstrations  at  London,  inviting  him  to  make 
his  residence  at  the  Piussian  Court,  and  furnishing  him  with  ample 
means  for  his  outfit. 

He  complied  with  the  invitation,  repaired  to  St.  Petersburgh, 
and  in  1852  was  Professor  of  Mathematics  in  the  Royal  College, 
under  the  special  protection  of  the  Autocrat  of  all  the  Russias. 


oc 


: 


178  A   CHAPTER   ON   ORANGES. 

A  CHAPTEE  ON^  OEANGES. 

T  has  occurred  to  me  that  some  facts  about  the  culliva- 

"^    tion  of  the  orange  -would  be  interesting  to  my  readers. 

So  I  have  been  hunting  up  some  information  on  the 

•^       subject ;  and  the  following  is  the  result  of  the  hunt. 

The  China  or  sweet  orange  was  introduced  into  Europe 

in  the  eleventh  century,  somewhere  about  the  time  that 

^  William  the  Conqueror  went  over  to  England.  Oranges 
were  first  cultivated  in  Italy,  whence  they  were  taken  to  Spain  and 
Portugal.  The  orange  is  now  cultivated  to  so  great  an  extent  in 
Italy,  that  there  are  almost  forests  of  them.  Prince  Antonio 
Borghose  has  at  his  palace  near  Rome,  which  I  visited  while  in  the 
Imperial  City,  upwards  of  seventy  sorts  of  orange  and  lemon-trees, 
among  which  are  some  very  rare  kinds.  It  is  a  fruit  so  much  es- 
teemed in  Italy,  where  it  thrives  well,  that  apples,  pears,  and  cher- 
ries have  almost  become  extinct  in  that  country.  There  the  de- 
lightful perfume  of  the  orange  groves  scents  the  air  for  miles. 
The  tree  produces  a  succession  of  flowers  during  the  whole  sum- 
mer, and  in  countries  where  the  climate  is  not  mild  enough  for  its 
natural  growth,  it  is  cultivated  in  green-houses,  and  large  orange- 
ries have  been  built  for  the  express  purpose  of  housing  it.  The 
most  magnificent  orangery,  perhaps,  is  that  of  Versailles,  built  by 
Louis  XIV.  in  which  is  a  fine  orange-tree,  called  the  "  Great  Bour- 
bon," which, is  more  than  four  hundred  years  old.  A  sight  of  that 
tree  alone  is  worth  a  visit  from  Paris  to  Versailles. 

Orano-es  were  known  in  Endand  in  the  time  of  Henrv  VIII.  but 
it  does  not  appear  that  they  were  cultivated  before  the  reign  of 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Henrietta  Maria,  Queen  of  Charles  I.  had  an 
orange-house  and  orange-garden  at  her  mansion,  Wimbledon 
Hall,  in  Surrey,  and  when  this  property  was  sold  by  order  of  th« 
Parliament,  in  1G49,  forty -two  orange-trees  stated  to  bear  ^^  fayre 
and  large  oranges'''  were  valued  at  ten  pounds  a  tree,  large  and 
small  together,  and  one  lemon-tree  at  twenty  pounds. 


J 


A   CHAPTER   OX   ORANGES.  179 

There  is  now  at  Margam  Abbey,  in  South  Wales,  a  very  fine 
orancrery,  in  which  the  trees  are  those  which  Sir  Henry  Wootton 
sent  from  Italy  as  a  present  to  James  I.  These  trees  were  cast 
ashore  here  by  the  wreck  of  the  vessel,  and  the  owner  of  the  place, 
bv  the  King's  permission,  built  a  splendid  orangery  to  receive  them, 
which  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  garden,  surrounded  on  three 
sides  by  wooded  hills. 

The  orange  belongs  to  the  Citrus  genus  of  plants.  The  lemon, 
the  citron,  the  shaddock,  the  lime  are  all  species  of  the  same  plant. 
The  common  orange  of  the  markets  is  called  the  China  orange.  It 
is  smooth,  round,  and  rather  flattened  ;  its  rind  is  thin,  and  of  a 
golden  yellow.  There  is  also  a  pear-shaped  orange,  but  it  is  a  rare 
variety.  The  orange  of  Nice  is  a  thick-skinned,  rough,  dark-yel- 
low, round  fruit ;  it  is  much  cultivated  about  Xice,  and  is  consid- 
ered one  of  the  finest  grown,  both  from  beauty  of  appearance  and 
excellence  of  quality.  The  blood-red  orange  has  its  pulp  irregularly 
mottled  with  crimson.  It  is  said  to  have  come  originally  from  the 
Philippine  Islands,  and  was  once  regarded  as  a  great  curiosity,  and 
high  prices  were  given  for  plants  of  this  variety  ;  but  it  has  now 
gone  into  disrepute.  It  is  su^Dposed  to  be  produced  from  grafting 
the  orange  upon  the  pomegranate.  The  Mandarin  orange  has  a 
flattened,  rough,  deep  orange  fruit,  with  a  thin  rind,  which  separates 
spontaneously  from  the  pulp.  This  sort  has  been  raised  in  China, 
where  its  fruit  is  chiefly  distributed  as  presents  to  the  great  oflficers 
of  state,  whence  its- name.  It  is  now  cultivated  in  Malta,  where  it 
arrives  at  perfection — its  singularity  consisting  in  the  rind  so  com- 
pletely separating  from  the  pulp,  when  quite  ripe,  that  the  latter 
may  be  shaken  about  inside.  The  St.  Michael's  orange  has  small, 
round,  pale-yellow,  seedless  fruit,  having  a  thin  rind,  and  extremely 
sweet  pulp.  This,  when  in  a  state  of  perfection,  is  perhaps  the 
most  delicious  of  all  oranges,  and  by  far  the  most  productive. 
Great  quantities  are  imported  from  the  Azores,  where  it  ap- 
pears to  be  entirely  cultivated  as  an  object  of  trade.  It  is  said 
that  twenty  thousand  of  these  oranges  have  been  picked  from  a 
single  tree,  exclusive  of  the  large  quantity  that  were  blown  down 
or  rejected  as  unfit  for  sale.  There  are  also  what  are  called  the 
egg-oranges  of  Malta,  which  are  sometimes  sent  to  foreign  lands  as 


180  GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

presents,  but  they  are  not  equal  in  quality  to  the  St.  Michael's. 
Besides  these,  there  are  other  kinds,  among  which  I  will  only  men- 
tion the  bitter  orange,  of  a  deep  yellow  color,  and  with  an  acid  or 
bitter  pulp.  There  are  numerous  varieties  of  this  orange,  but 
they  are  cultivated  principally  for  the  superior  beauty  of  their  flow- 
ers, of  which  the  most  celebrated  is  the  curled-leaved  orange,  the 
flowers  of  which  are  large,  sweet,  and  produced  in  extraordinary 
abundance. 


GEORGE  WASHINGTOK 

On  a  fine  morning  in  the  ftdl  of  1737,  Mr.  Washington,  having 
little  George  by  the  liand,  came  to  the  door  and  asked  my  cousin 
and  myself  to  walk  with  him  to  the  orchard,  promising  to  show 
us  a  fine  sight.  On  arriving  at  the  orchard,  we  were  jiresented 
with  a  fine  sight  indeed.  The  whole  earth,  as  far  as  we  could  see, 
was  strewed  with  fruit ;  and  yet  the  trees  were  bending  under  the 
weight  of  apples,  which  hung  in  clusters,  like  grapes,  and  vainly 
strove  to  hide  their  red  cheeks  behind  the  green  leaves. 

"  Now,  George,"  said  his  father,  "  look  here  my  son  !  Don't 
you  remember  when  this  good  cousin  of  yours  brought  you  that 
fine  large  apple  last  spring,  how  hardly  I  could  prevail  on  you  to 
divide  with  your  brothers  and  sisters  ;  though  I  promised  you  that 
if  you  would  but  do  it,  God  Almighty  would  give  you  ^^/cn^y  of 
apples  this  fall  P 

Poor  George  could  not  say  a  word  ;  but  hanging  down  his  head, 
looked  quite  confused,  wdiile  with  his  little  naked  toes  he  scratched 
in  the  soft  ground.  "Now  look  up,  my  son,"  continued  his  father, 
"  and  see  how  richly  that  blessed  God  has  made  good  my  promise  to 
you.  Wherever  you  turn  your  eyes,  you  see  the  trees  loaded  with 
fine  fruit,  many  of  them  indeed  breaking  down,  while  the  ground  is 
covered  wnth  mellow  apples,  more  than  you  could  ever  eat." 

George  looked  in  silence  on  the  wide  wilderness  of  fruit ;  he  mark- 
ed the  busy  humming  bees,  and  the  gay  notes  of  birds  ;  then  lifting 
his  eyes,  filled  with  shining  moisture,  he  said,  softly,  "  Well,  papa, 
only  forgive  me  this  time,  and  see  if  I  ever  be  so  stingy  any  more." 


JIILTOX'S   LYCIDAS.  181 


MILTON'S  LYCIDAS. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  all  Milton's  minor  poems,  is  that 
on  the  death  of  Lvcidas.  It  was  written  when  the  poet  was  but 
twenty-nine  years  old.  Lycidas  is  a  fictitious  name  which  Milton 
employs  to  designate  his  friend  John  King,  who  was  drowned  on 
his  passage  from  England  to  Ireland.  The  character  of  the  poem 
is  what  is  called  pastoral,  it  being  assumed  that  the  author  and 
his  lamented  friend  were  brother  shepherds.  "  For  we  were  nursed," 
so  runs  the  verse — 

"For  we  were  nursed  upon  the  self-same  hill; 
Led  the   same  flock  by  fountain,    shade  and  rill; 
Together  hoth,  ere  the  high  lawns  appeared 
Under  the  opening  eyelids  of  the   morn, 
We   drove   a-neld,  and  hoth  together  heard 
What  time  the  gray  fly  winds  her  sultry  horn, 
Battening  our  flocks  with  the  fresh  dews  of  night 
Oft  till  the  star  that  rose  at  evening  bright, 
Toward  heaven's  descent  had  sloped  his   westering  wheel  " 


182  A   GOOD  EETORT. 


The  close  of  this  poem  is  exceedingly  happy.  Tlie  soul  of  the 
poet  is  buoyed  up  by  the  hopes  of  the  Christian,  and  he  sees  his 
friend,  by  the  eye  of  faith,  around  the  throne  of  God  in  heaven  : 

"Weep  no  more,  -woful  shepherds,  -weep  no  more, 
Por  Lycidaa,  your  sorrow,  is  not  dead ; 
Sunk  though  he  be  beneath  the  ■watery  floor, 
So  sinks  the   day-star  in  the  ocean  bed, 
And  yet  anon  repairs  his  drooping  head. 
And  tricks  his  beams,  and  with  new-spangled  ore 
Flames  in  the  forehead  of  the  morning  sky  : 
So  Lycidas  sunk  low,  but  mounted  high. 
Through  the  dear  might  of  him  that  walked  the   waves, 
Where  other  groves  and  other  streams  along, 
With  nectar  pure  his  oozy  locks  he  laves, 
And  hears  the  soul's  expressive,  nuptial  song 
In  the  blest  kingdoms  meek  of  joy  and  love. 
There  entertain  him  all  the  saints  above, 
In  solemn   troops    and    sweet   societies, 
That  sing,   and  singing  in  their  glory,  move, 
And   wipe  the    tears  forever  from  his  eyes." 

The  engraving  which  accompanies  this  article  is  from  a  pic- 
ture of  Lycidas  painted  by  Fuseli.  Tliis  distinguished  painter  was 
born  at  Zurich,  in  Switzerland,  in  ITSO,  and  died  in  England  in 
1825.  He  painted  a  series  of  forty -seven  pictures  to  illustrate  dif- 
ferent scenes  and  characters  in  Milton's  poems,  and  this  sketch  of 
Lycidas  is  one  of  the  series. 


A  GOOD  EETORT. 


A  YOUNG  lady  at  an  Odd  Fellows'  Festival,  who  was  decorated 
with  several  artificial  flowers  about  her  person,  was  approached  by 
a  young  man  whose  breath  gave  evidence  of  his  having  imbibed 
a  little  too  freely.  He  addressed  her  with  "  Miss  Smith,  have  not 
those  flowers  lost  their  fragrance  ?" 

"  If  they  have  not,''^  she  replied,  "  they  certainly  will  if  they  come 
in  contact  with  your  breath." 


THE   LITTLE   BOY   THAT  DIED.  183 


THE  LITTLE  BOY  THAT  DIED. 

I  AM  fill  alone  in  my  chamber  now, 

And  the  midnight  hour  is  near ; 
And  the  fagot's  crack  and  the  clock's  dull  tick 

Are  the  only  sounds  I  hear, 
And  over  my  soul  in  its  solitude, 

Sweet  feelings  of  sadness  glide  ; 
For  my  heart  and  my  eyes  are  full  when  I  think 

Of  the  little  boy  that  died. 

I  went  one  night  to  my  father's  house — 

Went  home  to  the  dear  ones  all, 
And  softly  I  opened  the  garden  gate, 

And  softly  the  door  of  the  hall. 
My  mother  came  out  to  meet  her  son — 

She  Wssed  me,  and  then  she  sighed, 
And  her  head  fell  on  my  neck,  and  she  wept 

For  the  little  boy  that  died. 

I  shall  miss  him  when  the  flowers  come 

In  the  garden  where  he  played ; 
I  shall  miss  him  more  in  the  winter  time, 

When  the  flowers  have  all  decayed. 
I  shall  see  his  toys  and  his  empty  chair, 

And  the  horse  he  used  to  ride ; 
And  they  will  speak  with  a  silent  speech, 

Of  the  little  boy  that  died. 

I  shall  see  his  little  sister  again 

With  her  playmates  about  the  door  ; 
And  I'll  watch  the  children  in  their  sports. 

As  I  never  did  before ; 
And  if,  in  the  group,  I  see  a  child 

That's  dimpled  and  laughing-eyed, 
I'll  look  to  see  if  it  may  not  be 

The  little  boy  that  died. 

We  shall  all  go  home  to  our  Father's  house — 
To  our  Father's  house  in  the  skies, 


184  THE   ANGEL   SISTER. 


Where  the  hope  of  our  souls  shall  have  no  blight, 

Our  love  no  broken  ties ; 
We  shall  roam  on  the  banks  of  the  River  of  Peace, 

And  bathe  in  its  blissful  tide ; 
And  one  of  the  joys  of  our  heaven  shall  be — 

The  little  boy  that  died. 


THE  ANGEL  SISTER 


BY    MUS.    SARAH    W.    BROOKS. 


We  had  a  little  sister — 

Her  eyes  were  blue  and  fair, 

And  golden  in  the  sunshine, 
Were  the  ringlets  of  her  haj^-. 

All  day  among  the  blossoms. 
We  danced  away  the  hours, 

And  then  we  thought  her  fairer 
Than  all  the  summer  flowers. 

But  when  the  roses  opened. 
And  skies  were  blue  and  deep, 

The  little  one  was  weary — 
And  we  laid  her  down  to  sleep 

We  have  a  little  sister — 
We  cannot  see  her  now — 

Who  walks  in  snowy  garments, 
With  glory  on  her  brow ! 

Her  eyes  are  clear  and  strong. 
And  shining  are  her  wings, 

And  angel-ones  have  taught  her 
The  pleasant  song  she  sings. 

Her  grave  is  white  with  daisies, 

But  far  away  on  high 
We  have  a  little  sister 

Whose  home  is  in  the  sky! 


QUACKERY   AT   COXSTANTIXOPLE. 


185 


QUACKERY  AT  CO:N^STANTmOPLE. 


r^  HEY  have  quacks  in  Turkey,  it  seems,  as  well  as 
^  here  in  the  United  States.  A  "recent  traveler 
gives  the  following  amusing  and  instructive  ac- 
count of  the  proceedings  of  a  quack  in  Constan- 
tinople : 
One  day,  as  we  were  passing  through  one  of  the  most 
frequented  galleries  of  the  great  Bazaar — one  of  those 
main  arteries  of  commerce,  where  dervishes  and  tale-tellers,  Alba- 
nian dancers  and  snake-charmers  from  Egypt,  jostle  the  regular 
traiBckers  and  porters — we  observed  a  knot  of  persons  formed 
around  a  venerable-looking  man  in  a  loose  robe  and  lofty  turban  of 
green  silk,  who  was  engaged  in  trampling  upon  a  sick  man  with 
dim  eyes  and  sunken  cheeks,  stretched  upon  the  pavement.  The 
first  idea  that  presented  itself  to  our  puzzled  minds  was  naturally 
that  the  old  man  in  the  green  kalpack  was  triumphing  over  a 
vanquished  enemy ;  but  this  supposition  was  refuted  by  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  anxious  and  sym23athizing  faces  of  the  bystanders. 
The  dragoman  soon  explained  the  mystery.  It  appeared  that  the 
old  gentleman  in  the  green  turban  was  a  celebrated  magician  or 
enchanter  ;  and,  as  wizards  are  neither  roasted  nor  pelted  in  Mo- 
hammedan countries,  was  equally  respected  for  his  cabalistic  pow- 
ers, and  his  being  a  most  learned  Mussulman,  doctor  and  divine, 
famous  as  a  preacher  and  controversialist,  and,  moreover,  so  holv  a 
man,  that  it  was  expected  he  would  one  day  be  graced  bv  the 
honors  of  canonization.  Such  was  the  Emir  Abdallah,  Xazir-Ed- 
Deen,  prior  of  the  dervishes  of  Brousa,  who  was  so  busily  engao-ed 
in  treading  upon  the  poor,  shivering  invalid,  whose  ailments  the 
pressure  of  his  sanctified  and  slipperless  foot  was  to  cure.  Many 
Moslems  at  the  foot  of  the  grave  were  said  to  have  been  kicked 


186  THE   KING  AND   THE   MILLER. 

back  again  by  that  wonderful  foot.  It  may  have  been  so.  Amaz- 
ing is  the  power  of  imagination.  The  prior  of  the  Brousa  dervishes 
is  neither  better  nor  W'Orse  than  his  brother  quacks  in  Europe. 
Yet  he  w^as  infinitely  more  picturesque  than  the  sprucest  doctor 
that  ever  puffed  a  medicinal  water  or  a  pin's-head  pill ;  and  cer- 
tainly, as  he  stood  proudly  erect  with  his  wand  grasped  in  his  out- 
stretched hand,  his  lonc^  white  beard  and  toweriiifr  turban  mvinof  a 
look  of  majesty  to  his  inassive  features,  and  his  ample  robe  floating 
about  him  in  the  breeze  like  a  hurricane  of  green  silk,  he  looked 
as  superb  a  necromancer  as  Prospero  himself.  The  bystanders 
looked  on  with  awe-struck  faces,  reverently  watching  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  magician  ;  the  patient  looked  confiding  and  hopeful. 
The  solemnity  of  the  operator's  bearing  defied  desci-iption  ;  but 
close  by  stood  a  ragged  little  copper-colored  dervish  wearing  a  very 
high  white  felt  hat  with  a  green  rag  wound  about  it,  who  watched 
the  scene  with  scornful  unbelief  twinkling  in  his  cunning  little  black 
eyes,  and  incredulity  grinning  from  the  corners  of  his  malicious 
little  mouth,  garnished  with  yellow  fimgs  and  graced  by  a  perpet- 
ual dog's  smile  of  knowingness  and  crafty  malignity. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  MILLER. 

Frederick  the  Great,  King  of  Prussia,  was  annoyed  by  the  clat- 
ter of  a  w^ind-mill  near  his  summer  palace  at  Potsdam,  and  deter- 
mined to  put  an  end  to  it.  He  sent  word  to  the  owner  that  he 
wanted  to  take  it  down,  and  would  pay  a  thousand  thalers  for  it. 
The  owner  replied  that  his  majesty  could  not  have  it,  as  he  would 
not  sell  it.  The  king's  answer  was,  that  he  would  have  if,  and 
that  he  should  take  it  down  by  virtue  of  his  royal  prerogative. 
"  He  had  better  not,"  said  the  owner  to  the  oflScer ;  "  for  thanks 
be  to  God,  there  is  law  to  be  had  in  Prussia.  As  sure  as  you  do, 
so  sure  will  I  sue  his  majesty." 

This  had  the  desired  effect.  The  king  afterwards  bought  the  mill 
from  the  heirs.  It  is  still  kept  up  as  a  standing  monument  that  in 
Prussia  the  humblest  citizen  has  redress  in  law  even  against  the  king. 


THE   ASCENT   OF   MOUNT   IIECLA. 


187 


THE  ASCEXT  OF  MOUNT  HECLA. 


N  excellent  modern  work,  entitled  "A  Journey  to 

Iceland,"  contains  an  account  of  Mount  Hecla,  which 

I  am  sure  will  entertain   my  readers.     The  gentle- 

Jr"    man  who  made  the  ascent  says  it  is  attended  with 

P  quite  as  much  toil  and  inconvenience  as  that  of  Vesuvius. 
Climbing  Hecla  is  pretty  hard  work,  then — I  can  answer 
for  that.     But  I  will  let  the  traveler  tell  his  story  in  his  own  words  : 

The  road  led  at  first  through  rich  fields,  and  then  across  the 
patches  of  black  sand,  which  are  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  streams, 
hills,  and  hillocks  of  lava,  whose  fearful  masses  gradually  approach 
each  other,  and  frequently  afford  no  other  passage  than  a  narrow 
defile,  where  we  scrambled  over  the  blocks  and  piles  with  scarcely 
a  spot  to  rest  our  feet.  The  lava  rolled  around  and  behind  us,  and 
it  was  necessary  to  be  constantly  on  the  watch  to  prevent  ourselves 
from  stumbling,  or  to  avoid  coming  in  contact  with  the  rolling 
rocks.  But  the  danger  was  even  greater  in  the  gorges  filled  with  snow, 
already  softened  by  the  heat  of  the  season  ;  where  we  frequently  broke 
through,  or,  what  was  worse,  slid  backwards  at  every  step  almost  as 
far  as  we  had  advanced.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  another  mountain 
in  the  world,  whose  ascent  offers  as  many  difficulties  as  this  one. 

After  a  toilsome  struggle  of  three  hours  and  a  half,  we  reached 
the  place  where  it  became  necessary  to  leave  the  horses  behind  ; 
which  I  should  have  done  long  before,  as  I  felt  compassion  for  the 
poor  animals,  if  my  Hecla  guide  would  have  allowed  it ;  but  he 
maintained  that  there  were  still  spots  where  we  might  need  them, 
and  advised  me,  moreover,  to  ride  as  long  as  possible,  in  order  to 
reserve  my  sti-ength  for  what  was  still  before  me.  My  guide  as- 
sured me  that  he  had  never  led  any  one  so  far  on  horseback,  and  I 
readily  believe  it.  The  walking  was  already  horrible  ;  but  to  ride 
was  fearful  1     From  every  height  new  scenes  of  the  most  melancholy 


188  THE   ASCENT   OF   MOUNT   HECLA. 


desolation  appeared  in  sight ;  the  whole  prospect  rigid  and  inani- 
mate ;  and  burnt,  black  lava  was  spread  around  us  wherever  we 
looked.  It  was  not  without  a  painful  sensation  that  I  gazed  about 
me,  and'  saw  nothing  but  the  immeasurable  chaos  of  this  stony 
desert.  We  had  still  three  heights  to  climb  ;  they  were  the  last, 
but  also  the  most  perilous.  The  road  led  abruptly  over  the  rocks 
by  which  the  whole  summit  was  covered  ;  I  had  more  falls  than  I 
could  count,  and  frequently  tore  my  hands  on  the  sharp  points  of 
lava.  It  was,  to  be  sure,  a  terrible  expedition.  The  dazzling  white- 
ness of  the  snow  was  almost  blinding,  contrasted  with  the  shining 
black  lava  alongside  of  it.  When  I  had  to  cross  a  field  of  snow, 
I  did  not  venture  to  look  at  the  lava  ;  for  I  had  tried  it  once,  and 
could  hardly  see  in  consequence.     I  was  snow-blind. 

At  last  the  summit  was  attained,  after  two  more  hours  of  labo- 
rious climbing,  and  I  stood  upon  the  highest  peak  of  Hecla ;  but  I 
looked  in  vain  for  a  crater — there  was  no  trace  of  any  to  be  found  ; 
at  which  I  was  all  the  more  astonished,  as  I  had  read  minute  ac- 
counts of  it  in  several  b(^oks  of  travel.  I  walked  around  the  whole 
summit  of  the  mountain,  and  clambered  to  the  Jokul  (pronounced 
yokul)  which  lies  next  to  it;  but  still  I  saw  no  opening  or  crev- 
ice, no  sunken  wall,  or  any  sign  whatever,  in  fact,  of  a  crater. 
Much  lower  down  on  the  sides  of  the  mountain,  I  found  some 
wide  rents  and  chinks,  from  which  the  streams  of  lava  must 
have  flowed.  Tlie  height  of  this  mountain  is  said  to  be  four  thou- 
sand three  hundred  feet.  I  despair  of  conveying  to  my  readers  a 
distinct  idea  of  the  immense  waste  which  lay  displayed  before  me, 
with  its  accumulated  masses  of  lava,  and  its  peculiar  appearance 
of  lifeless  desolation.  I  seemed  to  stand  in  the  midst  of  an  ex- 
hausted fire.  The  blocks  were  piled  in  heaps  above  each  other, 
till  they  formed  high  hills  ;  the  valleys  were  choked  by  vast  streams 
of  rock,  whose  length  and  breadth  I  was  not  able  to  distinguish, 
although  the  course  of  the  last  eruption  could  be  plainly  traced 
among  them.  I  was  surrounded  by  the  most  dreadful  ravines, 
caves,  streams,  hills,  and  valleys.  I  could  hardly  understand  how 
I  had  reached  this  point,  and  was  seized  with  a  feeling  of  horror 
at  the  thought  which  forced  itself  upon  me,  that  perhaps  I  might 
never  be  able  to  find  my  way  out  of  this  terrible  labyrinth  of  ruin. 


WHO  PLAYED  THE  OEGAX  ?  189 

That  peculiar  glossy,  coal-black,  shining  lava,  which  is  never  po- 
rous, is  only  found  at  Hecla  and  in  its  immediate  vicinity  ;  but  the 
other  varieties,  jagged,  porous,  and  vitrified,  are  also  seen  there, 
though  they  are  always  black,  as  well  as  the  sand  which  covers 
one  side  of  the  mountain.  As  the  distance  from  this  volcano  in- 
creases, the  lava  loses  that  remarkable  jet-black  color,  and  assumes 
an  iron-gray,  or  perhaps  a  little  lighter,  though  it  sometimes  re- 
tained the  gloss  and  brilliancy  of  the  black. 


WHO  PLAYED  THE  ORGAN? 

The  following  is  a  reprint  of  a  very  quaint  story,  as  it  appears  in 
the  Melbourne  Argus :  Mr.  I.  Blewitt,  who  has  been  always  cele- 
brated, from  the  early  age  of  eleven,  for  his  extemporaneous  per- 
formance on  the  organ,  on  one  particular  occasion  attracted  the 
notice  of  the  celebrated  Samuel  Wesley,  who,  after  expressing  his 
admiration  of  the  superior  style  of  his  performance  to  some  of  his 
friends  near  him,  and  not  being  able  to  satisfy  himself  who  the  per- 
former was,  considered  it  best  to  apply  to  the  man  who  blew  the 
organ.  He  appealed  to  this  great  functionary,  and  putting  the  sim- 
ple question  to  him  of  "  "Who  played  the  organ  ?"  received  the 
following  laconic  answer  :  "  I  blew  it !"  Wesley,  considering  this 
a  great  liberty  of  this  mighty  puffer,  repeated  the  question  of 
"  Who  played  the  organ  ?"  when  he  received  the  same  answer, 
given  with  greater  pertness.  W^esley,  indignant  at  the  fellow's 
seeming  rudeness,  said  :  "  I  do  not,  sir,  doubt  your  ability  as  a  blow- 
bellows,  but  I  wish  to  know  (giving  an  imitation  with  his  fingers, 
being  himself  the  greatest  organist  of  the  day)  who  played  the  or- 
gan ?"  The  wag  still  persisted,  saying,  "  This  is  the  third  time,  sir,  I 
have  told  you,  I  blew  it ;  and  I  will  tell  you  no  further."  Then  put- 
ting on  his  great  coat  he  left  the  gallery.  Wesley,  when  he  got  to 
the  door,  inquired  of  some  of  his  friends — who  played  the  organ  ? 
and  seeing  the  wit  of  this  facetious  fellow,  turned  round  and  gave  him 
a  sliilliug,  saying,  "  You  are  the  best  pufl:er  I  ever  met  with  ;  and 
no  man  is  better  qualified  to  handle  such  a  subject." 


190 


THE  EDITOR'S  TABLE  TALK. 


THE  EDITOR'S  TABLE  TALK. 


Cl^lli^ 


AVE  you  been  to  the  Crystal  Palace,  reader  ?  It 
lias,  from  the  day  it  was  opened  until  the  present 
time,  been  growing  more  and  more  interesting.  I 
suppose  that  nearly  all  the  articles  for  which  space  has  been 
reserved  in  the  building  have  now  arrived,  and  are  in  their 
places.  The  palace  has  for  some  weeks  been  opened  in 
the  evening ;  and  you  ought  to  see  what  a  splendid  appeaiance  it 
presents  by  the  light  of  thousands  of  gas-burners.  You  would 
pinch  yourselves,  for  aught  I  know,  were  you  to  visit  the  palace  in 
the  evening,  to  see  whether  you  were  really  awake,  or  whether  you 
were  not  dreaming  of  a  palace  of  enchantment. 


Our  friend  S.  N. — "  where  is  she  ?"  This  is  a  question  which 
of  late  has  come  to  me  from  every  quarter  of  the — globe,  I  was 
about  to  say,  but,  upon  second  thought,  I  recollect  that  I  have  not 
yet  heard  from  Central  Africa  and  China  on  this  subject — from 
every  quarter  of  the  Union.  Alas,  reader  !  I  don't  know.  She 
left  these  parts,  intending  to  be  absent  on  a  long  excursion,  last 
spring.  I  heard  from  her  once.  She  was  gradually  retreating 
from  the  confines  of  civilization  then  ;  and  from  the  fact  that  I  have 
heard  nothing  since,  I  don't  know  but  I'm  justified  in  the  inference 
that  she  has  penetrated  into  the  very  depths  of  Terra  Incognita, 
far  beyond  the  reach  of  mails,  and  that  she  has  taken  up  her  resi- 
dence in  that 

" lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness, 

Some  boundless  contiguity  of  shade," 


which  editors  sometimes  sigh  for,  but  which,  I  believe,  they  seldom 
find.     Well,  I  only  hope  she  is  enjoying  herself  so  much  amusing 


THE  editor's  table  TALK.  191 

and  instructing  others,  that  she  does  not  find  time  to  contribute 
to  our  amusement  and  instruction,  as  I  am  sure  she  loves  to  do. 
I  know  she  is  not  idle,  wlierever  she  is  ;  that's  one  consolation.  I 
do  believe,  that  were  she  in  the  regions  of  perpetual  ice,  searching 
after  poor  John  Franklin — and  she  may  be  there,  for  aught  I  know — 
she  would  at  once  find  the  means  of  furnishing  some  instructive 
amusement  to  the  polar  bears  in  their  long  winter  evenings. 


"  Uncle  Frank,  I  send  you  herewith  a  riddle  for  publication.  Be 
so  good  as  to  put  it  into  the  next  number  of  the  Cabinet.^''  My 
dear  little  fellow.  Uncle  Frank  will  be  so  good  as  to  do  no  such 
thing,  for  a  great  many  reasons,  but  chiefly  because  about  forty 
or  fifty  boys  and  girls,  more  or  less,  have  got  before  you,  and  have 
made  very  much  the  same  request.  The  world  is  not  quite  so  im- 
patient to  get  a  sight  at  that  riddle  as  you  suppose,  and  I'll  use 
my  influence  to  persuade  it  (the  world)  to  wait  a  while. 

And  since  we  are  dipping  into  this  matter  of  enigmas,  I  want  to 
make  a  statement  for  your  benefit.  So  hark  !  Enigma-makers  will 
please  to  take  notice,  that  an  enigma  is  incomplete,  and  conse- 
quently inadmissible,  when  one  or  more  of  the  letters  in  the  en- 
tire word  or  sentence  chosen,  are  not  indicated. 


And  this  last  sentence  I  want  you  to  scan  very  closely,  as  well  on 
account  of  its  g-rammatical  construction  as  on  account  of  its  bearino- 
on  the  spinning  and  weaving  of  enigmas.  I  have  often,  when 
writing,  come  to  such  a  form  of  expression  as  this ;  and  after  pro- 
ceeding half  way  with  it,  drawn  my  pen  across  it,  and  changed  its 
entire  form.  The  truth  is,  it  is  not  strictly  good  grammar,  though 
the  construction  is  frequently  allowed.  When  we  come  to  apply 
the  touch-stone  of  Murray  to  it,  we  find  that  it  is  slightly  lame  in 
one  of  its  limbs,  and  halts  a  little.  Now,  my  kind  little  friend,  will 
you  oblige  me  by  changing  the  form  of  that  sentence  so  that  it 
shall  still  read  smoothly  and  at  the  same  time  bo  strictly  gram- 
matical ?     Try  your  hand  at  it,  and  let  me  have  the  result. 


The  correspondent  who  asks  about  the  solution  of  the  riddle 
from  Willis  Gaylord  Clark's  "  Remains,"  published  in  the  January 


192 

number  of  the  Cabinet,  is  informed  that  no  satisfactory  answer  has 
been  heard  of  in  these  parts,  and  that  some  sceptical  people  are 
doubting  if  there  be  an  answer. 


RECENT    PUBLICATIONS. 

1.  Messrs.  A.  S.  Barnes  &  Co.  of  this  city,  have  recently  brouo^ht 
out  the  Youth's  Manual  of  Geography,  combined  with  history 
and  astronomy,  designed  for  the  use  of  junior  and  intermediate 
classes  in  public  and  private  schools.  It  is  liberally  and  appropri- 
ately illustrated,  and  for  an  elementary  work  it  seems  to  be  just 
the  thing  which  is  needed. 

2.  The  same  house  have  also  published,  during  the  summer,  the 
Teacher  and  Parent,  which  is  a  treatise,  written  in  a  very  happy 
style,  upon  common  school  education,  and.  contains  practical  sug- 
gestions of  value  to  teachers  and  parents.  It  is  the  work  t)f  Charles 
Northend,  Superintendent  of  public  schools  in  Danvers,  Mass. 

3.  The  Abridged  History  of  the  United  States,  also  published  by 
A.  S.  Barnes  &  Co.  from  the  pen  of  Mrs.  Willard,  I  regard  as  the 
best  book  in  its  department  which  I  liave  had  the  pleasure  of  ex- 
amining. 

4.  Maplcton  is  the  title  of  a  book  published  by  Messi-s.  Lewis 
Colby  <fe  Co.  of  this  city.  It  is  a  pretty  story,  illustrating  the  evils 
of  intemperance. 

J.  S.  Redfield  has  recently  brought  out  a  duodecimo  volume 
entitled  Lorenzo  Benoni  ;  or  Passages  in  the  Life  of  an  Italian. 
How  much  the  writer  has  drawn  from  the  field  of  imagination,  in 
this  account  of  himself,  does  not  appear.  But  so  much  as  this  is 
true  of  it — that  it  possesses  almost  the  thrilling  interest  of  "  Jane 
Eyre,"  at  the  same  time  that  it  affords  a  capital  sketch  of  real  life 
among  the  Italians.  I  do  not  at  all  wonder  at  the  great  popu- 
larity it  has  already  achieved  for  itself. 

6.  Household  Words  is  the  title  of  a  family  magazine,  edited  by 
Dickens,  published  weekly  in  England,  and  monthly  in  the  United 
States,  by  M'Elrath  &  Barker,  at  two  dollars  a  year.  It  is  an  exceed- 
ingly well-conducted  journal.  Every  article  in  it  is  valuable.  1 
scarcely  know  of  a  magazine  which  embraces  so  many  good  things 
in  so  small  a  compass  and  at  so  little  cost. 


THE   PUZZLERS    DRAWER.  193 


THE  PUZZLEE'S  DKAWER. 

The  enigmatical  department  of  the  September  number  of  the 
Cabinet  must  have  been  pretty  difficult,  I  fancy.  At  all  events, 
very  few  of  my  readers  have  sent  answers  to  the  puzzles  contained 
in  that  number  ;  and  two  or  three  of  those  which  have  been  sent 
are  incorrect.  You  must  bestir  yourselves,  boys  and  girls.  You 
must  not  on  any  account  allow  this  department  to  flag  for  want  of 
interest  and  attention  on  your  part.  When  I  saw  what  a  small 
number  of  answers  had  been  sent  in  for  this  month,  I  at  first 
thought  I  would  print  the  answers  "  on  my  own  hook,"  and  so 
spoil  all  the  fun  of  the  little  folks  who  are  so  fond  of  puzzling  their 
brains  over  these  things.  But  second  thoughts  are  sometimes  best, 
you  know,  and,  upon  reflection,  that  did  seem  to  be  almost  too  se- 
vere a  punishment  to  my  delinquent  friends.  So  I  have  determined 
not  to  publish  any  of  the  answers  in  this  number,  but  to  give  you 
all  a  longer  time  to  try  your  wisdom  over  them.  You  may  expect 
to  see  the  result  of  your  wisdom  in  this  direction,  provided  you 
please  to  enlighten  the  editor  thereupon,  in  the  November  number 
of  the  Cabinet. 

And  by  the  way,  I  purpose  very  soon  oftering  some  more  pre- 
miums for  the  best  things  in  the  way  of  puzzles.  So  be  sure  you 
get  your  wit  sharpened  in  season. 


THE    PRIZE    CHARADE    IN    VERSE. 


ETTA,'    OF    ALTON,    ILL. 


My  Jirst  the  worn  mariner  hails  with  delight, 
For  his  ship  has  been  battling  the  tempest  all  night, 
And  now,  with  loose  cable  and  closely-furled  sail, 
She  is  riding  at  anchor,  defying  the  gale. 

My  7iext  is  a  vowel  of  euphonous  sound, 
But  apply  not  to  me,  for  with  you  it  is  found; 
My  third  is  the  half  of  a  measure,  sajis  doute, 
Whether  liquid  or  tiim   "the  deponent  saith   not" 
'OL.  LV.  "^ 


194 


THE   puzzler's   DRAWER. 


My  whole  is  a  kingdom — but  is  it  the  clime 

Of  the  grape  and  the  myrtle,  the  orange  and  lime? 

Or  is  it  the  region  of  reindeer  and  snows, 

Where  the  Northern  liffhts  (rleam  with  a  blush  like  the  rose 


doct  puzzle. 

Here  are  two  dead  dogs.  They 
are  both  "as  dead  as  a  hatchet,'' 
as  you  see.  Well,  I  want  yon  to  bring 
them  to  life  again,  and  make  them  run 
as  if  they  were  chasing  a  fox.  I  want 
you  should  do  all  this,  too — mind 
that! — ly  the  addition  of  tico  lines 
only  to  the  picture.     Can  you  do  it? 


BUDGET    OF    ANAGRAMS    NO.    II. 

1.  Time  ends  rage.  5.  I  cheat,  sir! 

2.  Wild  glen.  6.  Past  ruin. 

3.  My  curer.  7.  I  stir  up  man. 

4.  Wet  hare.  8.  Pure  wolf.        a.  s.  c. 


riddle  no.  v. 

I  love  the  dim  old  forest  shade, 

Where  giant  oaks  their  branches  rear; 

And  when  the  merry  leaflets  fade, 
I  light  the  darkness  of  the  year. 

I  seek  not  lordly  mansion  bold. 

Where  wealth  and  pride  together  cling 

But  'tis  to  some  dear  cottage  old. 
The  air  of  cheerfulness  I  bring. 

The  sunbeams  chase  me  o'er  the  rocks, 
Or  on  the  village  churchyard  wall  ; 

Time  weaves  me  in  his  hoary  locks, 
And  we'll  together  stand  or  fall. 

I  slumber  on  the  ruined  tower, 

O'er  shattered  battlements  I  brood  ! 

I  haunt  the  wrecks  of  useless  power, 
And  court  the  bliss  of  solitude. 


THE  puzzler's  DRAWER.  195 

Yet  on  the  snow-capped  Alpine  height, 

Where  freezing  winds  breathe  death  around, 
I  dwell  secure,  nor  feel  the  blight, 

With  ever-blooming  beauty  crowned. 

« 
Still  on  the  stormy  Iceland  coast, 

And  where  green  Erin  lifts  her  head, 
A  nobler,  lovelier  home  I  boast. 

With  ocean's  glories  round  me  spread. 

Fair  reader,  would  you  like  to  know 

The  name  I  first  from  Adam  took  1 
I  have  not  anything  to  show; 

Go,  ask  confectioner  or  cook.  estelle. 


RIDDLE    NO.  VI. 

Dear  Mr.  Woodworth, — If  any  "children  of  larger  growth"  ever 
read  your  enigmas  and  puzzles — and  I  suspect  the  children  sometimes 
get  such  help — perhaps  some  one  of  them  will  solve  the  following  rid- 
dle. I  have  tried  it  often  and  long,  and  cannot  solve  it,  or  hear  of  any 
one  who  can.  It  was  taken  from  the  N.  Y.  Express  some  years  since, 
but  the  editor  could  or  would  never  (so  far  as  I  know,  and  I  am  a  con- 
stant reader  of  that  paper,)  publish  the  answer.  Please  publish  it.  I 
want  to  know  if  it  has  an  answer.     Here  it  is: 


And  yet  in  an  orchestra  never  have  been  : 
I'm  a  bird  of  bright  plumage,  yet  less  like  a  bird, 

Nothing  in  Nature  ever  was  seen — 
Touching  earth  I  expire,  in  water  I  die. 
In  air  I  lose  breath,  yet  can  swim  and  can  fly ! 
Darkness  destroys  me,  and  light  is  my  death; 
You  can't  keep  me  alive  without  stopping  my  breath. 
If  my  name  can't  be  guessed  by  a  boy  or  a  man, 
By  a  girl  or  a  woman  it  certainly  can! 

H.  H.  PENNIMAN. 
ENIGMA    NO.    VI. 

My  whole  is  a  motto  each  boy  should  repeat 

When  difficult  tasks  are  assigned  him. 
With  this,  self-denial  may  seem  even  sweety 

And  labor  no  sluggard  will  find  him. 


196  THE  puzzler's  drawer. 

My  third,  fourth,  and  fifth,  with  my  second  their  van. 

Will  grow,  and  if  rightly  directed, 
A  blessing  will  prove,  when  the  boy  is  a  man — 

AVill  make  him  beloved  and  respected. 

If  'stead  of  this  motto,  "  I  can't"  is  his  choice, 

The  boy  from  his  duty  thus  shrinking. 
My  sixth  and  my  seventh  and  eighth  stay  their  voice, 

While  wanes  not  my  first  in  his  t+iinking  ?  laura. 

NAMES    OF    COUNTIES    IN    THE    WESTERN    STATES,    ENIGMATICALLY 
EXPRESSED. 

1.  A  word  signifying  angry,  a  pronoun,  and  a  descendant. 

2.  A  plait  or  fold,  and  a  portion  of  the  body. 

3.  The  name  of  a  planet,  and  a  large  room. 

4.  Curved,  and  a  word  signifying  upon. 
6.  A  color,  and  a  bird  of  prey. 

6.  To  gather,  and  a  word  signifying  at  a  distance. 

7.  A  piece  of  unhewed  wood,  and  an  adjective  denoting  one. 

S.  T.  R. 

>^  

REBUS    NO.    II. 

What  month  by  the  insertion  of  one  of  the  vowels  in  the  name  of 
which,  without  disarranging  the  original  order  of  its  letters,  will  spell 
the  name  of  a  city  in  New  England  ?  s.  t.  r. 


CHARADE    NO.    III. 

Eleven  letters  form  my  name, 

But  as  I  would  not  show  the  same, 

I  now  intend  to  puzzle  ye, 

Then  find  me  out  and  you  shall  see 

The  letter  I  of  me  is  part, 

And  it  is  placed  quite  near  my  heart ; 

Seven  of  my  letters  mean  to  join ; 

Three  more  to  part  asunder ; 
My  whole  it  is  a  country  fine — 

Can't  you  find  out  this  wonder  ? 
And  though  my  name  distortion  wear, 

I  yet  long  time  have  been 
Famous  for  order  everywhere  ; 

Guess  me,  'twill  soon  be  seen. 


BLOWING  one's   own  THUMPET. 


197 


1 4  ^^^^ 


BLOWma  ONE'S  OWN  TKUMPET. 

How  common  a  thing  it  is,  in  these  days,  to  meet  with  a  man 
blowing  his  own  trumpet.  "  Let  another  praise  thee,"  is  the  lan- 
guage of  Scripture.  But  thousands  of  people,  in  this  age  of  steam 
and  lightning,  are  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  wait  for  their  neighbors 
to  give  them  a  lift ;  so  they  set  to  and  praise  themselves.  It  is  a 
pretty  cheap  way  of  getting  fame,  this  of  blowing  one's  own  trum- 
pet. The  old-fashioned  mode  was  rather  expensive.  It  took  a 
good  while,  moreover,  to  bring  it  about.  Formerly,  a  man  had  to 
live  long  years  to  get  his  name  written  in  large  characters  in  the 
scroll  of  histor}'^,  and  to  work  pretty  hard  for  it  at  that.  Howard 
did  not  get  a  world-wide  reputation  for  philanthropy  until  he 
"  shuffled  oft'  this  mortal  coil."  Shakspeare  was  regarded  as  rather 
a  small  pattern  for  a  poet,  while  he  lived.  So  was  Milton,  I  be- 
lieve. Galileo,  to  whose  tomb  at  Florence  we  all  make  reverent 
pilgrimages  now,  was  little  better  than  a  crack-brained  fanatic  in 
his  day  and  generation.  These  worthies,  you  see,  had  not  learned 
the  art  of  blowing  their  own  trumpets.  It  used  to  be  tho^ight  in 
old  times,  that  "  self-praise  is  no  praise  at  all."     Many,  in  the  sim- 


198  BLOwiis'G  one's  own  trumpet. 

plicity  of  tlieir  liearts,  thougbt  tliat  a  man  might  as  easily  lift 
himself  up  by  tiigofing  at  his  waistbands,  as  propel  himself  fame- 
ward  by  a  blast  of  his  own  trumpet.  Things  are  different  now. 
In  the  "march  of  intellect,"  which  we  hear  so  much  about,  it  is 
discovered  in  certain  quarters  that  fame,  to  be  enjoyed,  must  be  had 
while  one  is  living — tliat  it  is  not  worth  a  rush  after  he  is  dead. 
W<11,  there  is  something  in  that,  to  be  sure.  How  much  more 
comfoitable  it  would  have  been  for  some  of  the  English  poets,  for 
example,  if  some  of  the  sovereigns  which  have  been  expended  for 
stones  in  i-aising  a  monument  for  them,  had  been  laid  out  in  bread 
for  their  mouths,  while  they  were  in  the  flesh.  There  is  something 
to  be  said  on  the  other  side,  though.  Those  who  spend  their 
breath  in  blowing  themselves  into  fame  in  their  own  day,  stand 
but  little  chance  of  being  famous  when  they  stop  blowing. 

This  train  of  remark  was  suggested  by  a  veritable  incident  which 
I  will  relate  to  you,  and  which  may  cause  you  some  astonishment. 
I  had  written  a  b(jok.  There  is  not  much  merit  implied  in  that 
fact ;  foi-  books  are  as  plenty  now  as  the  frogs  were  in  Egypt  once 
on  a  time,  and  some  of  the  books  are  more  mischievous  than  those 
frogs  were.  Well,  it  is  customary  for  authors,  when  one  of  their 
bouks  is  issued,  to  present  a  copy  to  the  principal  newspaper  edi- 
tors. That  is  for  the  purpose  of  giving  the  book  currency  with  the 
public.  So,  not  to  be  Leliind  my  brother  authors,  I  distributed  my 
book  freely  amonnr  the  conductors  of  the  i)ress.  Meetino^,  a  few 
days  afterwards,  otw  of  the  editors  to  whom  I  had  forwarded  a 
copy,  he  accosted  me  with  the  remark,  that  he  had  received  such 
a  book  from  me.  Yes,  I  leplied,  I  had  done  myself  the  honor  of 
sending  him  the  book.  "  And  why  did  you  not  send  a  notice  of 
the  book  at  the  same  time?"  Being  a  little  "  verdant"  in  such 
matters,  I  hardly  knew  what  the  question  implied,  when  the  editor^ 
seeing  my  embarrassment,  said  he  should  be  most  happy  to  insert* 
such  a  criticism  on  the  book  as  I  chose  to  write,  and  expressed  a 
hope  that  I  would  save  him  the  trouble  of  such  a  notice,  by] 
preparing  one  myself.  When  I  intimated  to  him  that  I  chose 
disinterested  criticisms  on  the  merits  of  my  books,  and  that  I  die 
hot  wish  to  blow  my  own  trumpet  in  that  style,  he  actually  laughec 
in   my   face.     "  Pooh  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  thing  is  done  every^ 


THE   XEW    BOOTS.  199 


day  among  us.  Nothing  is  more  common  than  for  us  to  publish  a 
column  of  book  notices  every  line  of  which  is  written  either  by  the 
author  or  his  publislier.  And" — he  said  this  with  a  loud  laugh — 
"if  the  man  that  made  the  book  don't  know  what  there  is  in  it,  who 
should?"  In  justice  to  the  editorial  profession,  I  ought  to  say, 
perhaps,  that  the  number  of  editors  who  carry  about  with  them 
such  a  kind  of  India-rubber  conscience  as  this  one  exhibited,  is 
somewhat  limited  ;  and  let  us  hope,  too,  that  there  are  not  many 
authors  so  hard-pushed  for  fame  as  to  make  use  of  such  a  tool 
as  this  man  to  aid  them  ;  though  I  do  remember  once  receiving  a 
"  puff"  which  an  author  sent  me  of  one  of  his  own  books.  The  puff 
cried  up  the  new  book  as  a  most  extraordinary  production,  destined 
to  astonish  the  world  by  its  excellence.  The  author,  in  this  puff, 
set  himself  down  as  a  prodigy  of  learning  and  wit,  who  was  likely 
to  eclipse  all  the  aspirants  to  literary  fame  since  Noah's  day  ;  and 
the  simple-hearted  man  added  in  a  note,  that  if  I  coincided  in  the 
judgment  he  had  expressed,  he  would  be  much  obliged  by  my 
publishing  the  critique  he  sent  me  in  my  magazine.  "  And  did 
you  publish  the  notice  V  I  hear  you  inquire.  No,  reader,  far 
from  it. 


THE  NEW  BOOTS. 


A  LITTLE  boy  who  was  very  vain,  had  a  pair  of  boots  purchased 
for  him  by  his  parents.  It  was  his  first  pair,  and  he  was  very 
fond  of  showing  them.  The  little  fellov^r  would  draw  up  his  pan- 
taloons, and  display  the  whole  of  his  boots  ;  then  walk  up  and 
down  the  room,  with  his  eyes  now  on  the  shining  leather,  and  now 
upon  a  friend  of  his  father's  who  was  present ;  but  it  was  a  boot*- 
less  effort.  At  length,  however,  he  succeeded.  Sitting  in  front 
of  both,  he  exclaimed,  "  Father,  ain't  three  times  two  six  ?"  "Yes, 
my  son."  "  Well  then,"  said  he,  pointing  to  each  of  their  feet, 
"  if  three  times  two  is  six,  there  are  just  six  hoots  in  this  room. 


200 


A   WEEK   IN  FLOEENCE. 


A  WEEK  IN  FLOKENCE. 


la^i^^ 


ARRIVED  at  Florence  on  the  30th  day  of  March,  liav- 
ing  spent  the  day  before  among  the  far-famed  wonders 
of  Pisa.  All  the  way  from  Leghorn  we  passed 
^  ^'  through  charming  scenery.  The  route  lies,  for  the 
'\  most  part,  through  the  vale  of  the  Arno.  I  could  not  help 
half  regretting  that  our  mode  of  traveling  was  by  steam 
rather  than  horses.  I  don't  love  to  be  whirled  through  a 
beautiful  country  at  the  rate  of  twenty  miles  an  hour.  The  course 
of  the  Arno  is  very  nearly  west.  It  owes  its  existence  to  the  little 
streams  that  flow  down  the  western  slope  of  the  Apennines.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  rivers  in  Italy,  and  waters  one  of  the 
finest  valleys  upon  which  the  sun  ever  shone.  Leghorn  does  not 
lie  exactly  at  the  mouth  of  the  Arno,  but  a  little  south  of  it ;  so 
that  the  course  of  the  railway  to  Pisa  is  about  north-east,  instead 
of  east,  though  from  the  latter  city  it  follows  the  course  of  the 
river  to  Florence. 

As  you  pass  along  through  the  vale  of  the  Arno,  you  can  see 
plainly  enough  whaWlre  the  principal  products  of  the  soil  in  this 
part  of  the  country.  Vineyards,  acres  upon  acres  in  extent,  stretch 
over  a  great  part  of  the  valley.  The  grape  here,  as  in  many  other" 
portions  of  Italy — all  the  way  between  Milan  and  Venice,  for  ex- 
ample— is  trained  in  a  very  diflerent  manner  from  that  most  pur- 
sued in  France  and  in  the  valley  of  the  Rhine.  Mulberry  trees, 
for  the  use  of  the  silkworm,  are  planted  in  the  vineyards,  and  the 
vines  are  trained  upon  these  trees  instead  of  a  trellis  or  short  stake. 
The  branches  of  the  mulberry  trees  are  cut  off  every  season  to  pre- 
vent the  grapes  from  climbing  too  high,  so  that  they  have  a  dwarfed 
and  stunted  appearance,  not  very  pleasing  to  the  traveler  unused 
to  such  deformity. 

When  the  carriage  which  we  took  at  the  railway  station,  just 
outside  the  w^alls  of  Florence,  stopped  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  a 


A   WEEK   IX   FLORENCE.  201 

greasy,  wo-begone  looking  specimen  of  flesh  and  blood  jumped  upon 
the  back  of  the  vehicle,  notwithstanding  our  admonitions  to  the 
central  y,  and  rode  with  us  to  our  hotel — the  Hotel  du  JSFord. 
This  hotel  was  one  of  the  best  in  the  city  they  told  us,  though  I 
afterwards  learned  that  the  Hotel  de  JSTew  York — don't  you  think 
a  pilgrim  from  this  Knickerbocker  city  of  ours  might  be  pardoned 
for  feeling  a  little  vain,  when  he  reads  the  name  of  this  hotel  on 
the  sign  ? — was  a  much  better  one,  and  so,  when  I  subsequently 
visited  Florence,  I  drove  to  the  New  York  Hotel.  The  greasy- 
looking  individual  wdio  invited,  himself  to  ride  to  our  lodgings — 
who  do  you  think  he  was ;  and  what  business  had  he  in  such  a 
position  ?  That  chap,  please  to  be  informed,  is  the  facchino. 
"And  pray  what  is  ^  facchino P""  A  very  important  personage, 
without  whom  the  baggage  on  a  coach  might  remain  there  half  a 
century,  for  aught  I  know.  His  business  is  to  carry  baggage  to  a 
hotel,  or  from  it ;  to  lift  one's  trunk  from  the  top  of  a  diligence,  so 
that  a  custom-house  officer  can  examine  it,  and  then  to  lift  it  up 
again  ;  or  if  a  man  happens  to  be  traveling  without  any  baggage, 
to  open  the  door  of  his  vehicle  for  him,  when  he  gets  in  or  out  of 
it.  "  A  very  kind  and  accommodating  personage,  surely."  Aye, 
and  he  performs  all  his  kind  acts  voluntarily.  Nobody  ever  asks 
him  to  lift  a  finger  in  his  service.  Your  genuine  facchino  always 
appoints  himself,  and  installs  himself  into  office.  Sometimes  two 
or  three — I  have  known  as  many  as  six — will  crowd  around  one's 
carriage,  at  the  same  time.  "  Oh,  what  pests  these  creatures  must 
■be  !"  Not  at  all,  unless  you  choose  so  to  regard  them.  You 
must  take  Italy  as  it  is,  not  as  it  should  be.  You  must  learn  to 
look  upon  all  such  features  as  this  in  Italian  life  as  so  many  taxes 
which  you  are  to  pay  for  your  sight-seeing  ;  and  instead  of  losing 
your  temper  over  them,  as  so  many  Englishmen  and  Americans  do, 
a  much  better  wvay  is  to  fall  in  with  them,  and  laugh  rather  than 
fret  and  scold.  Why,  if  a  traveler  in  Italy  should  stop  to  give  vent 
to  his  indignation  every  time  he  sees  or  hears  anything  discordant 
with  his  notions  of  propriety,  he  would  have  little  else  to  busy  him- 
self about,  and  he  might  much  better  have  staid  at  home.  If  there 
should  be  an  army  of  these  self-appointed  ragamuffins  around  you 
as  large  as  Hannibal's,  you  need  only  select  one.     All  the  rest  will 

VOL.  IV.  9*  NR 


202  A  WEEK  IN  FLORENCE. 

quietly  go  away,  and  try  the  leeching  process  on  some  other  trav- 
eler. The  one  you  retain  does  his  duty  well  enough.  He  is  a 
necessary  evil — not  altogether  an  evil,  neither;  for  somebody  must 
lift  your  trunk  or  carpet-bag  from  the  coach  or  diligence,  and  carry 
it  up  ever  so  many  flights  ^  stairs  at  the  hotel — and  if  the  fac- 
chino  did  not  do  the  job,  who  would  ?  Not  the  conductor  of  the 
diligence  or  coach.  Such  a  degrading  piece  of  work  is  so  abhor- 
rent to  his  sensitive  soul,  that  he  almost  faints  at  the  very  idea  of 
it.  Not  the  driver.  He  has  his  horses  to  manage,  and  that  t;isk 
is  sometimes  a  little  more  than  he  can  perform.  Not  the  porter  at 
the  hotel.  "  And  why  not  the  porter  ?"  For  the  very  best  reason 
in  the  world,  because  there  is  no  such  person  connected  with  the 
establishment.  Then  the  facchino  is  not  so  much  of  an  evil  after 
all  ;  and  what  better  thing  can  a  peaceable,  quiet,  good-natured 
man  do,  than  just  surrender  his  baggage  to  the  imperious  little 
Italian,  and  when  the  work  is  done,  without  grudging  or  grumbling, 
give  him  a  few  coppers  for  his  trouble  ?  The  taxes  this  class  of 
people  levy  on  us  are,  after  all,  computed  in  dollars  and  cents,  but 
very  small. 

Florence,  in  painting  and  sculpture,  is  the  richest  city  in  the 
world.  The  famous  Venus  de  Medici,  as  everybody  knows,  is  here. 
This  piece  of  statuary,  with  many  others  of  rare  beauty,  is  in  the 
Imperial  Gallery.  The  apartment  in  which  the  Venus  stands  is 
called  the  Tribune,  and  was  completed  under  the  reign  of  the  Medi- 
cian  family,  by  Cosmo  II.,  in  IGIO.  The  cupola  of  this  apartment 
is  splendidly  incrusted  or  inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl.  The  pave- 
ment is  of  the  richest  marble.  When  this  Venus  was  chiseled  and 
by  whom,  no  one  knows.  The  most  we  are  sure  of  in  relation  to 
it  is,  that  it  is  very  ancient,  and  that  it  is  the  noblest  specimen  of  the 
sculptor's  art  in  the  world.  The  feet  and  hands  have  been  broken 
at  ditferent  times,  and  very  little  of  the  original  work  in  these  parts 
of  the  figure  now  remains.  But,  patched  as  it  is,  no  one,  with 
tolerable  notions  of  this  art,  can  fail  to  see  that  it  is  a  work  for  any 
artist  or  any  age  to  be  proud  of. 

Speaking  of  sculpture  and  sculptors,  reminds  me  of  an  e.vceedingly 
pleasant  visit  I  made  one  day  to  the  studio  of  lliram  Powers,  one 
of  our  own  countrymen,  who  has  been  at  work  with  his  chisel  in 


A   WEEK   IN   FLORENCE.  203 

Florence  for  several  years,  and  who  lias  achieved  for  himself  a 
world-wide  reputation  as  an  artist.  I  had  no  letter  of  introduction 
to  Mr.  Powers.  But  he  received  me,  on  the  simple  announcement 
of  my  name  and  place  of  residence,  with  all  the  cordiality  of  an 
old  acquaintance.  I  felt  reluctant  to  occupy  any  of  the  time  which 
I  knew  must  be  so  valuable  to  him.  But  he  stopped  me  in  the 
midst  of  an  apology,  by  sayino-,  bluntly — for  there  is  very  little  of 
what  our  Irish  neighbors  call  blarney  about  him — "  Never  mind 
the  apologies  ;  I'm  always  at  leisure  when  I  have  a  call  from  an 
American."  And  so  he  stopped  cutting  away  at  a  mammoth  block 
of  marble,  showed  me  all  over  his  studio,  told  me  what  he  was 
doing,  and  what  he  was  going  to  do,  and  gave  me  quite  an  insight 
into  a  branch  of  mechanical  skill  of  which  I  had,  up  to  that  time, 
known  almost  nothing.  I  shall  never  forget  one  anSwer  he  made 
to  a  question  of  mine,  as  exhibiting  his  excellent  common  sense, 
and  his  freedom  from  the  trammels  of  the  schools.  "  Pray,  sir,"  I 
asked,  perhaps  too  inquisitively,  "  do  sculptors,  in  such  works  as 
your  Greek  Slave  and  Proserpine,  measure  by  feet  and  inches,  in 
order  to  get  the  proper  proportions  of  the  different;  parts  ?"  "  It  is 
contrary  to  rule,  I  believe,"  said  he,  with  a  smile,  "  to  measure  in 
our  art.  But  I  always  choose  to  be  accurate  ratlier  than  scientific." 
After  this  visit  to  the  studio  of  Mr.  Powers,  I  became  acquainted 
with  his  wife  and  family,  and  spent  some  very  pleasant  hours  in 
their  society.  In  this  connection,  too,  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you 
how  much  my  enjoyment  was  increased  while  in  the  city,  by  my 
intercourse  with  ^Ir.  Ross  Brown,  author  of  "  Yusef,"  and  his  f^lm- 
ilv,  who  were  residents  there  at  the  time.  Mr.  Brown  had  just  then 
returned  from  the  Holy  Land,  and  was  weaving  the  incidents  of  his 
tour  into  a  book,  which  he  afterwards  published  under  the  title  of 
"  Yusef,"  and  which,  I  need  not  add,  have  given  him  a  veiy  exten- 
sive popularity. 

Among  the  churches  of  Florence — and  there  are  scores  of  them — 
the  most  magnificent  is  the  Catliedral.  This  edifice,  like  the  Ca- 
thedral at  Pisa,  and  some  others  built  in  the  middle  ages,  is  com- 
posed of  three  parts — the  Cathedral  proper,  the  baptistery,  and  the 
canipaiiile,  or  bell  tower.  The  "leaning  tower"  at  Pisa  is  the  bell 
tower  of  the  great  Cathedral  there.     The  Cathedral  in  Florence  has 


204  A  WEEK  IN   FLOEENCE. 

the  finest  dome  in  the  world.  The  domes  of  St.  Paul's  in  London, 
and  St.  Peter's  in  Rome,  are  great  works  of  their  kind,  but  neither 
of  them  equals  this  on  the  Cathedral  in  Florence.  This  wonderful 
edifice  was  commenced  in  1294.  But  it  took  a  great  many  years 
to  build  it.  The  walls  are  almost  entirely  cased  with  marble  on 
the  outside.  The  height,  from  the  pavement  to  the  top  of  the 
cross  on  the  dome,  is  three  hundred  and  eighty  seven  feet.  Giotto, 
an  artist  who,  you  may  remember,  was  the  son  of  a  poor  shepherd, 
and  was  brought  to  notice  by  Cimabue,  a  painter,  who  found  the 
boy  sketching  one  of  his  father's  sheep,  had  a  hand  in  planning 
some  portions  of  the  edifice.  The  campanih  was  begun  by  him  in 
1334.  The  most  remarkable  things  about  the  baptistery  are  its 
three  bronze  doors.  Tliese  doors,  which  are  of  an  enormous  size, 
are  all  carved  on  the  outside,  with  minute  representations  of  various 
scenes,  mostly  taken  from  Scripture.  Two  of  them,  Michael  An- 
gelo  once  said,  were  worthy  of  being  the  gates  of  Paradise.  One 
of  the  gates  was  the  work  of  Andrea  of  Pisa,  from  designs  by 
Giotto.  When  this  gate  was  first  exhibited,  the  event  was  cele- 
brated throughout  all  Tuscany  as  a  festival.  Tlie  rulers  of  the  re- 
public, who  never  came  forth  from  the  pahice  in  state,  except  upon 
the  most  important  occasions,  were  present  at  this  exhibition,  ac- 
companied by  the  ambassadors  of  the  then  rival  crowns  of  Naples 
and  of  Sicily.  The  rights  of  citizenship  were  granted  to  the  Pisan 
artist,  as  tlie  highest  honor  which  could  be  accorded  to  him. 

In  one  of  the  churches  I  visited,  I  confess  to  having  been  a  little 
amused,  as  well  as  edified,  by  a  monkish  painting  representing  the 
Last  Judgment.  The  pious  old  painter  gave  us  the  Pope,  ever  so 
many  cardinals,  and  other  ecclesiastics,  with  ftiithful  kings,  princes, 
and  nobles,  going  straiglit  up  to  heaven,  at  the  gate  of  which  St. 
Peter  stood  with  his  keys,  ready  to  let  them  in.  But  the  way  this 
same  Popish  painter  represented  those  who  dift'ered  with  the  Church 
in  matters  of  doctrine  and  politics,  was  anything  but  pleasant. 

In  a  monastery  which  I  visited  one  day,  I  was  conducted  to  a 
laboratory  where  the  monks  compounded  drugs  and  perfumes,  from 
the  sale  of  which  they  derive  quite  a  revenue.  They  have  a  large 
sale-room  in  the  monastery,  where,  I  should  think,  you  can  obtain 
almost  anything  in  the  line  of  perfumery  that  ever  was  dreamed  of. 


A   WEEK   IX   FLORENCE.  205 


I  also  visited  a  Dominican  convent,  connected  with  the  church 
of  St.  Maik.  This  is  a  very  ancient  convent,  and  the  most  noted, 
perhaps,  in  Florence.  Savonarola  was  prior  of  St.  Mark  in  his 
days,  and  the  history  of  this  remarkable  man  is  entirely  connected 
with  the  convent.  He  was  born  at  Ferrara  in  1452.  When  he 
was  fourteen  years  old  he  left  his  father's  house  secretly,  and  en- 
tered the  order  of  the  Dominicans.  Several  years  later  he*  began 
to  preach  at  Florence.  The  style  of  his  preaching  was  far  above 
the  common  grade  in  his  day.  Perhaps  it  was  on  account  of  this 
very  circumstance  that  his  efforts  were  quite  unsuccessful  ;  and  we 
find  him  before  he  was  thirty  years  old  discouraged,  and  on  the 
eve  of  abandoning  the  profession  to  which  he  had  devoted  himself. 
So  he  retired  to  Bologna,  and  turned  his  attention  to  other  studies. 
However,  his  reputation  as  a  preacher,  it  would  seem,  had  reached 
Lorenzo  de  Medici,  and  he  invited  him  to  return  to  Florence,  and 
to  make  that  city  his  permanent  home.  Sav^onarola  accepted  the 
invitation,  and  began  to  preach  again.  This  time  he  was  more 
successful.  Crowds  came  to  hear  him  preach.  It  was  not  long 
before  the  church  where  he  officiated  could  not  contain  the  multi- 
tudes who  rushed  to  hear  him.  He  was  emboldened  to  assume 
the  tone  of  a  prophet,  and  began  to  urge,  with  great  vehemence,  a 
reform  in  the  Church.  The  great  mass  of  the  people  considered 
him  as  divinely  inspired,  while  some  ridiculed  him  as  a  fanatic,  and 
others  still  regarded  him  as  an  impostor,  in  league  with  Satan.  He 
soon  broke  off  all  connection  with  his  patron,  the  illustrious  Lo- 
renzo de  Medici,  and  assailed  his  character  with  the  bitterest  invec- 
tive. He  even  prophesied  his  downfall.  It  would  appear  that  it 
was  his  duty,  by  virtue  of  his  office  as  prior  of  St.  Mark's,  to  visit 
the  head  of  the  republic  in  the  capacity  of  spiritual  adviser.  But 
Savonarola  neglected  and  even  refused  to  make  such  visits.  Lo- 
renzo went  to  St.  Mark's  ;  but  still  the  monk  refused  to  see  him. 
When  Lorenzo  lay  on  his  death-bed  he  sent  for  Savonarola,  who 
waited  upon  him.  "  Wilt  thou  believe  with  a  perfect  faith  ?" 
asked  the  bold  monk.  Lorenzo  answered  in  the  affirmative. 
"  Wilt  thou,  to  the  utmost  of  thy  power,  restoi-e  all  that  thou  hast 
wrongfully  acquired  ?"  was  the  next  question.  Lorenzo  hesitated 
a  while,  but  finally  promised  he  would  make  such  a  restoration. 


206  A   WEEK   IX   FLORENCE. 

"  Wilt  thou  restore  Florence  to  liberty,  and  to  the  enjoyment  of 
her  popular  government,  as  a  free  commonwealth  ?"  was  the  third 
question  of  the  stern  inquisitor.  Lorenzo  turned  his  face  away, 
and  spoke  not  another  word.  So  the  interview  ended  without  the 
blessing  of  the  great  Dominican.  At  that  time  the  Papal  chair 
was  occupied  by  one  not  very  remarkable  for  the  purity  of  his 
life,  and,  as  may  be  supposed,  it  was  difficult  for  such  a  man  as 
Savonarola  to  refrain  from  raising  his  voice  loudly  against  the 
ijnpurity  of  that  monster's  court.  He  was  not  silent.  He  de- 
nounced the  Pope  and  his  host.  He  called  upon  the  faithful  to 
come  out  of  the  mystic  Babylon.  He  wrote  to  the  Chiistian  princes, 
declaring  that  the  Church  was  going  to  ruin,  and  that  it  was  their 
duty  to  convoke  a  general  council,  before  which  he  was  ready  to 
prove  that  the  Church  was  without  a  head,  and  that  the  reigning 
Pope  was  not  a  true  bishop,  that  he  had  never  been  worthy  of  the 
title,  and  that,  indeed,  he  was  far  from  being  a  true  genuine  Chris- 
tian. The  Pope,  in  his  turn,  exc(5mmunicated  the  monk,  and  the 
bull  of  excommunication  was  read  in  the  Cathedral  at  Florence. 
Still,  however,  Savonarola  continued  to  preach,  and  his  sermons 
were  as  full  of  invective  as  ever  against  those  in  high  places. 

At  this  time,  opposition  to  him  broke  out  in  a  new  place.  The 
Franciscans  began  to  excite  the  people  against  him.  They  raised 
a  great  hue  and  cry  to  his  disadvantage,  boldly  proclaiming  from 
the  pulpit  that  he  was  a  heretic,  and  excommunicated  at  that.  One 
of  the  monks  of  Savonarola's  convent  oft'ered  to  prove  the  truth  of 
his  mjister's  doctrines.  The  proof  he  offered  seems  ridiculous 
enough  to  us  in  this  enlightened  age,  but  in  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth  centuries  the  Komish  Church  had  some  queer  ways  which 
they  have  long  since  abandoned.  This  monk,  Domenico  da  Rescia 
by  name,  proposed  to  settle  the  whole  affair  by  a  sort  of  single 
combat — the  two  parties  having  each  a  champion,  and  appealing  to 
God  to  work  a  miracle  for  the  truth.  The  champions  respectively 
were  to  pass  through  the  fire,  and  the  one  who  escaped  uninjured 
was  to  be  legarded  as  having  the  best  of  the  argument.  Strange 
as  it  may  seem  to  you,  the  challenge  was  accepted  by  the  Francis- 
cans. Domenico  was  the  champion  for  the  party  of  Savonarola. 
On  the  day  agreed  upon,  the  Dominican  champion,  with  his  mas- 


A   WEEK   IX    FLOREXCE.  '  207 

ter,  appeared  at  the  place  wbei'e  tlie  solemn  tiial  was  to  be  made. 
Tiiey  came  in  great  pomp,  at  the  head  of  an  immense  procession 
of  their  friends,  chanting  the  psalm  beginning,  "  Let  God  arise,  and 
let  his  enemies  be  scattered."  The  Franciscan  champion  also  pre- 
sented himself.  The  fire  was  kindled.  Domenico  was  on  the  point 
of  rushing  into  it,  bearing  the  host  in  his  hands.  But  the  excited 
multitude  declared  that  it  would  be  a  profanation  of  the  symbol  of 
Christ's  death  to  subject  it  to  the  fiery  ordeal.  Domenico  persisted 
in  his  determination  to  take  the  host  with  him  into  the  flames,  or 
to  abandon  the  whole  thing.  This  little  dispute  bi'oke  up  the 
silly  experiment.  But  the  course  matters  took  proved  fatal  to  the 
cause  of  Savonarola.  Poor  man  !  The  people  loaded  him  with 
insults,  and  he  was  thrown  into  prison.  A  spiritual  court,  under 
the  direction  of  two  Papal  commissioners,  a  sort  of  mock  tribunal, 
it  appears,  as  those  courts  usually  were  in  those  days,  was  held  for 
his  trial.  His  firmness  and  eloquence  at  first  threw  his  judges  into 
confusion.  They  resorted  to  the  rack  as  the  only  argument  they 
had  to  bear  upon  him.  Under  the  influence  of  torture,  he  con- 
fessed that  he  was  an  impostor,  and  that  he  had  never  been  en- 
dowed with  supernatural  powers.  This  confession,  however,  he 
afterwards  retracted.  But  nothing  could  save  him.  He  Avas  con- 
demned, with  some  of  his  prominent  disciples,  to  be  fii-st  strangled 
and  then  burned.  This  sentence  against  him  was  executed  in  the 
year  1498,  in  the  presence  of  a  great  concourse  of  people,  many 
of  whom  regarded  him  as  a  martyr  and  a  saint  of  the  first  mac-ui- 
tude. 

The  church  of  Santa  Croce,  or  the  Holy  Cross,  is  amono-  tb« 
most  notable  ones  in  Florence  ;  for  here  are  buried  some  of  the  most 
honored  men  of  Italy — Dante,  Michael  Angelo,  Alfieri,  Galileo, 
Machiavelli,  and  others.  I  felt  more  interest  in  the  tomb  of  the 
gi-eat  astronomer  than  in  any  other.  And  by  the  way — if  you  will 
allow  me  to  flit  out  of  the  church  a  moment,  somewhat  elfishlv,  and 
alight  upon  a  hill  overlooking  the  city — Galileo'^  Tower,  the  spot 
where  he  used  to  make  his  observations,  had  a  great  many  charms 
to  me.  What  a  host  of  associations,  stretching  back  far  into  the 
past,  came  crowding  into  my  mind,  as  1  surveyed  the  busy  city, 
with   the  pretty  Arno  wiudinor  through   it,   from   this  eminence. 


208  SENDING  FOR  THE  DOCTOR. 

Poor  Galileo !  He  was  in  advance  of  the  times  in  which  he 
lived  ;  and  it  was  because  his  great  intellect  could  not  be  wrapped 
up  in  the  swaddling-clothes  which  the  Papal  church  tried  to  put 
upon  it,  that  he  was  hunted  down  by  the  Pope.  It  was  for  this 
reason  that  he  languished  long  months  in  the  dark  prisons  of  the 
Inquisition  at  Rome.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  his  whole  life, 
after  the  publication  of  his  book  maintaining  the  Copernican  theory, 
was  spent  under  the  anathema  of  the  Pontiff  and  his  Council. 
He  died  in  the  year  1642,  the  very  year  in  which  Isaac  Newton  was 
born.  His  monument  in  the  church  of  Santa  Croce  was  erected 
in  1787.  It  is  a  very  tasteful  piece  of  Avorkmanship,  as  it  should 
be.  How  often  it  comes  to  pass  that  the  world  treats  its  benefac- 
tors with  scorn,  and  contempt,  and  abuse,  while  they  are  living, 
and  honors,  perhaps  deifies  and  worships  them  after  they  are  dead. 
Would  it  not  be  well  for  us,  dear  reader,  to  learn  a  lesson  from 
the  conduct,  in  this  respect,  of  the  people  of  past  ages  ?  Would 
it  not  be  a  good  plan  to  look  about  us  a  little,  and  see  if  we  are  not 
placing  a  false  estimate  upon  some  of  our  fellow-men  who  have 
high  claims  upon  our  respect  and  gratitude,  which  we  are  in  dan- 
ger of'  overlooking  until  the  gniss  begins  to  grow  upon  their 
graves  ? — Evang. 


SENDING  *FOR  THE  DOCTOR. 

Nothing  so  much  vexes  a  physician  as  to  be  sent  for  in  great 
haste,  and  to  find,  after  his  arrival,  that  nothing,  or  next  to  no- 
thing, is  the  matter  with  his  patient.  There  is  an  "  urgent  case" 
of  this  kind  recorded  of  an  eminent  English  surgeon.  He  had 
been  sent  for  by  a  gentleman  who  had  just  received  a  slight 
wound,  and  gave  his  servant  orders  to  go  home  with  all  haste 
imaginable,  and  fetch  a  certain  plaster.  The  patient,  turning  a 
little  pale,  said,  "  Sir,  I  hope  there  is  no  danger."  "  Indeed  there 
is !"  answered  the  surgeon  ;  "  for  if  the  fellow  doesn't  run  like  a 
race-horse,  the  wound  will  be  healed  before  he  can  possibly  get 
back  1" 


THE   SHETLAND   PONY. 


209 


THE  SHETLAND  PONY. 


'c:^ 


HESE  curious  little  animals  attract 
so  much  attention  wherever  they 
appear,  especially  among  youths, 
that  they  generally  form  a  part  of 
all  the  menageries  that  travel  through  the  country.  No  wonder  that 
they  are  great  favorites  with  the  girls  and  boys,  for  their  small  size, 
beautiful  shape,  and  gentle,  playful  disposition,  seem  to  fit  them 
exactly  to  be  playmates  for  young  people,  and  the  little  horses  are 
always  ready  to  join  in  their  pleasure  excursions  and  frolics. 

Egypt  was  the  original  country  of  horses,  but  as  they  are  now 
found  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  they  differ  greatly,  each  kind  of 
horse  being  adapted  to  the  climate  and  pi'oductions  of  the  country 
he  inhabits.  The  Shetland  pony  is  just  the  animal  required  in 
Scotland,  the  Shetland  Islands,  from  which  its  name  is  derived, 
and  Canada,  in  North  America.  Its  diminutive  size  suits  the  scanty 
vegetation  of  these  countries,  which  would  not  support  large  ani- 
mals ;  but  if  they  were  as  feeble  as  they  are  small,  they  would  be 
of  little  service.  They,  however,  possess  immense  strength  in  pro- 
portion to  their  size,  and  are  so  tough  and  healthy  that  they  can 
live  among  the  mountains  through  the  long  winters,  and  survive  to 
a  great  age,  even  fifty  or  sixty  years. 


210  THE   SHETLAND   POXY. 

In  Scotland  tliey  are  called  Shelties  ;  and  as  tliey  have  to  take 
care  of  themselves,  they  run  almost  Avild  npon  the  mountains,  and 
will  climb  up  steep  places,  standing  with  ease  on  the  very  edge  of  the 
most  frightful  precipices.  On  the  Sabbath  they  are  always  wanted 
to  carry  the  families  to  church,  and  they  must  be  caught  on  Sat- 
urday. The  rogues  know  how  to  make  this  a  difficult  task.  It  is 
a  pleasing  sight,  on  Sunday  morning,  to  see  one  or  two  women 
mounted  upon  one  of  these  ponies,  covering  him  so  completely  with 
their  large  dresses  that  nothing  can  be  seen  of  the  pony  but  its 
droll  little  head. 

A  middle-sized  man  must  ride  with  his  knees  raised  to  the  ani- 
mal's shoulders,  to  prevent  his  toes  from  touching  the  ground.  It 
is  suiprising  to  see  with  what  speed  they  will  carry  a  heavy  man 
over  broken  and  zigzag  roads  in  their  native  mountains. 

A  gentleman,  some  time  ago,  was  presented  with  one  of  thefee 
handsome  little  animals,  which  was  no  less  docile  than  elegant, 
and  measured  only  seven  liands,  or  twenty-eight  inches,  in  height. 
He  was  anxious  to  convey  his  ])resent  home  as  speedily  as  possible, 
but  being  at  a  considerable  distance,  was  at  a  loss  how  to  do  so 
most  easily.  The  friend  said,  "  Can  you  not  carry  him  in  your 
chaise  ?"  He  made  the  experiment,  and  the  Shelty  was  lifted  into 
it,  covered  up  with  the  apron,  and  some  bits  of  bread  given  him 
to  keep  him  quiet.  He  lay  peaceably  till  he  reached  his  destina- 
tion, thus  exhibiting  the  novel  spectacle  of  a  horse  riding  in  a  gig. 

A  gentleman  had  a  white  pony  which  became  exceedingly  at- 
tached to  a  Httle  white  dog  that  lived  with  him  in  the  stable; 
and  whenevei-  the  horse  was  taken  out,  the  dog  always  ran  by  his 
side.  One  day,  when  the  groom  took  out  the  pony  for  exercise, 
accompanied,  as  usual,  by  his  canine  friend,  they  met  a  large  dog, 
which  attacked  the  diminutive  cur,  upon  which  the  horse  reared, 
and,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  bystanders,  so  effectually  fought  his 
friend's  battle  with  his  fore-feet,  that  the  aofGfressor  found  it  for  his 
intei-est  to  scamper  otf  at  full  speed,  and  never  again  venture  to  as- 
sail the  small  dog. 

A  little  girl,  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  in  Warwickshire,  Eng- 
land, playing  on  the  banks  of  a  canal  which  luns  through  his 
grounds,  had  the  misfortune  to  fall  in,  and  would  in  all  probability 


THE   SHETLAND   PONY.  211 


have  been  drowned,  had  not  a  little  pony,  -svhicli  had  long  been 
kept  in  the  femily,  plunged  into  the  stream  and  brought  the  child 
safely  ashore,  without  the  slightest  injury. 

A  farmer  in  Canada  had  a  large  number  of  ponies,  and  among 
them  a  very  handsome  and  playful  one,  which  was  a  great  favorite 
with  a  little  boy  about  ten  years  of  age,  the  only  child  of  the  fjir- 
mer.  One  day  the  boy  was  sent  several  miles  on  an  errand  for 
some  money,  with  a  warning  to  return  before  night,  as  the  country 
was  infested  with  robbers.  His  visit  was  so  delightful  that  he  for- 
got the  command  of  his  parents,  and  did  not  mount  his  pony  to 
return  till  it  was  quite  dark.  His  road  lay  through  a  thick  forest, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  a  highwayman  attacked  and  dragged, 
him  from  his  horse,  which  ran  swiftly  homeward.  Meantime  his 
terrified  parents  sat  trembling  by  their  fireside,  awaiting  their  boy's 
return.  They  Avere  just  preparing  to  go  in  search  of  him  when 
they  heard  the  clattering  of  hoofs,  and  soon  after  a  loud  kicking 
and  pawing  at  the  door.  On  opening  it,  they  saw  the  pony  in  a 
state  of  great  excitement,  w^ith  his  saddle  and  bridle  dangling  about 
him.  He  ran  from  them  a  short  distance,  then  frisked  about,  and 
seizing  the  father's  coat  in  his  teeth,  pulled  him  along.  The  agon- 
ized parents  followed  the  animal,  who  ran  ahead,  constantly  turning 
back  and  neighing  to  urge  them  onward.  After  traveling  many 
miles  through  the  woods,  they  came  to  the  place  where  the  boy  had 
been  robbed,  and  found  him  tied  to  a  tree,  strij^ped  of  his  money 
and  clothes,  and  half  dead  with  fear  and  cold. 

I  have  somewhere  read  a  curious  story  of  a  farmer  who  was  in 
the  habit  of  riding  a  little  "  Shelty"  to  an  ale  house  some  miles  dis- 
tant, where  he  squandered  his  hard  earnings  in  drinking,  and  gen- 
erally became  so  intoxicated  that  he  could  hardly  mount  his  horse. 
But  the  animal  knew  his  master's  failing,  and  usually  succeeded  in 
bringing  him  safe  to  his  house.  But  one  night  the  man  was  so 
drunk  that  he  rolled  off  into  the  mud  when  about  half-way  home. 
The  fall  cut  his  head  severely,  and  he  lay  with  his  foot  in  the  stir- 
rup, so  that  the  poor  horse  could  not  move  without  treading  on  him. 
After  standing  patiently  for  some  time,  he  became  vexed  with  his 
beastly  master,  and  turning  his  head,  gave  him  a  hearty  shaking. 
This  roused  the  man  from  his  stupor ;  but  his   hurt  was  so  severe 


212  THE   RIDE. 


that  he  could  not  rise,  though  he  tried  to  do  so,  till  the  horse  took 
hold  of  his  collar,  and  raised  his  head  nearly  to  the  saddle,  when 
he  contrived  to  crawl  upon  his  back,  and  was  carried  carefully  home. 


THE  EIDE. 


A    FABLE,    BY    J.    P    M'CORD. 


A  STEER,  that  had  never  been  broke 

To  bow  to  a  burden  or  yoke, 

His  frame  by  a  thicket  had  laid, 

To  grind  his  sweet  food  in  the  shade. 

When  Frank,  on  a  ramble,  espied  him. 

He  thought  'twould  be  pleasant  to  ride  him; 

So  guiding  with  caution  his  track. 

He  settled  his  weight  on  his  back. 

The  beast  w\is  so  soon  on  his  feet, 

It  jerked  him  almost  from  his  seat. 

Again  in  his  balance  corrected, 

He  still  a  gay  season  expected  ; 

For  twice  when  the  creature  had  wheeled, 

He  moved  on  a  trot  to  the  field. 

But  ftister  and  faster  he  sped. 

Till  the  rider  was  conscious  of  dread. 

Away,  yet  away,  he  is  bounding, 

His  hoofs  in  the  distance  are  sounding. 

Poor  Frank,  without  slirriip  or  rein, 

Or  even  a  grasp  in  the  mane, 

Unable  his  courser  to  guide, 

Or  to  hold  his  position  and  ride. 

Is  planted  ere  long  in  the  dirt. 

And  equally  frightened  and  hurt. 

MORAL. 

As  I  looked,  to  myself  I  repeated, 
"It  is  often  not  hard  to  get  seated; 
But  if  awkward,  or  new  in  the  place. 
Though  we  start  on  a  prosperous  race, 
We  may  get  in  the  end  a  sad  tumble. 
Just  to  make  us  a  little  more  humble." 


THE    UNWELCOME   PASSENGER. 


213 


THE  UXWELCOME  PASSENGER. 


nc  of  the  most  amusing,  and  at  the  same  time, 
suggestive  and  instructive  British  writers  for  the 
young  is  a  London  gentleman,  who  styles  himself 
"  Old  Humphrey."  He  was  among  the  few  literary 
men  that  I  tried  to  see  while  in  London.  Having  a  note 
of  introduction  to  Old  Humphrey's  publishers,  I  ascer- 
tained, through  them,  w^here  the  author  resided,  and  lost  no  time 
in  calling  at  his  house.  But,  as  perhaps  an  Irishman  might  say,  I 
found  him  absent,  and  was  not  able  to  see  him  while  I  remained 
in  town.  And  so  fell  one  of  the  air-castles  I  had  begun  to  build 
before  leaving  home,  and  wdiich  I  had  completed  abroad.  Reader, 
in  respect  to  this  castle-building  and  castle-falling,  I  will  not  say,  in 
the  lano-uao^e  of  Moore — 


"  O,  ever  thus  from  childliood's  hour, 
iVe  seen  ray  fondest  hopes  decay  , 

I  never  loved  a  tree   or  flower, 
But  'twas  the   first  to  fade   away." 

I'll  not  say  that.  But  I  will  say,  if  you  will  pardon  the  parody 
(and,  while  you  have  your  hand  in,  me,  too,  for  committing  it)  I 
will  say, 

I  never  huilt  a  castle  tall, 

With  most  especial  toil  and  care, 
But  fell,  whene'er  it  chose  to   fall. 

As  flat  as   any  pan-cakes   are. 


"  But  what  is  Uncle  Frank  driving  at  ?"  Well,  sure  enough, 
rather  a  pertinent  question  that.  I  set  out  to  tell  you  a  story  that 
this  favorite  author  of  mine  tells  about  encountering  an  unwelcome 


214  THE   UNWELCOME   PASSENGER. 

passenger  in  a  mail-coach,  and  Low  he  confesses  he  got  come  up 
with  for  putting  on  some  airs  in  respect  to  the  passenger.  Til 
tell  the  story  in  the  identical  language  of  Old  Humphrey. 

Some  years  ago,  in  traveling  one  evening  towards  London,  I 
happened  to  be  the  only  passenger  inside  the  mail-coach.  There 
are  seasons  when  we  would  not  willingly  travel  without  company, 
but,  being  at  the  time  in  a  reflective  mood,  I  hoped  that  no  one 
would  disturb  me.  For  some  miles  I  had  my  wish  ;  suddenly, 
however,  the  mail  stopped  near  the  gate  of  a  farm-house,  and  a 
man  of  unusual  size  soon  clambei-ed  up  the  steps  into  the  coach. 
From  the  glance  I  had  of  him,  assisted  by  the  bright  lamp  on  that 
side  the  mail-coach,  I  concluded,  at  once,  that  he  was  some  honest 
faimer,  who  would  talk  of  nothing  the  whole  of  the  way  but  of 
turnips,  clover-seed,  barley,  pigs,  sheep,  and  cattle.  I  speak  not  of 
these  things  disparagingly  ;  they  are  each  and  all  of  them  inter- 
esting and  important,  but  I  was  no  farmer,  and  besides,  my  head 
was  full  of  other  things. 

To  defend  myself  as  well  as  I  could  from  so  unwelcome  a  tres- 
pass on  my  reflections,  I  affected  to  be  sleepy,  and  leaned  back  my 
head  in  the  corner  of  the  coach ;  but  my  fellow-traveler  was  not  to 
be  so  easily  defrauded  of  a  friendly  chat ;  he  began  at  once,  just  as 
I  had  anticipated,  to  speak  of  the  effect  of  the  late  rain  on  the 
turnips. 

To  all  he  said,  I  replied  "yes"  or  "no,"  as  the  case  required, 
and  hoped  that  he  would  soon  relapse  into  silence,  but  in  this  I 
was  quite  mistaken.  Finding  it  impossible  to  evade  his  conver- 
sation, I  tried  to  submit  with  a  good  face,  and  endure  patiently 
what  I  could  not  avoid.  But  here  it  will  be  well  honestly  to  con- 
fess, that  I  thought  very  little  of  the  farmer,  and  plumed  myself 
highly  on  my  superior  knowledge.  In  short,  I  felt,  in  talking  to 
my  companion,  like  a  man  who  confers  a  favor  by  his  condescen- 
sion. Such  is  the  weakness,  the  folly,  the  pride,  and  the  vanity  of 
the  luunan  heart. 

After  speaking  of  the  produce  of  the  ground,  of  cattle,  and  of 
the  high  prices  of  some  things,  and  the  low  prices  of  others,  my 
companion  ran  into  other  topics  ;  and  so  conipletel}'  astonished  me 
by  the  extent  of  his  practical  information,  that  I  began  to  wonder 


THE   LIAE.  215 


■wherever  and  however  he  had  contrived  to  pick  up  so  much  knowl- 
edge. 

He  spoke  of  the  value  of  human  labor  as  compared  to  machinery  ; 
of  the  population  and  resources  of  the  country  ;  of  its  mines;  its 
manufactures  and  its  commei'ce  ;  of  the  poor  laws  ;  of  capital,  and 
of  the  influence  of  paper  money.  In  short,  he  got  so  far  beyond 
me,  that  I  felt  like  a  school-boy  in  the  presence  of  his  master. 
Yes,  the  veiy^  man  whom  I  had  estimated  so  low  as  to  think  my- 
self greatly  his  superior,  was  as  a  giant  on  practical  subjects,  and  I 
as  a  dwaif. 

On  inquiry,  I  ascertained  that  he  was  a  man  largely  interested 
in  mines,  that  the  workmen  employed  by  him  amounted  to  several 
thousands,  that  the  advantage  of  his  practical  knowledge  was 
sought  for  by  her  Majesty's  ministers,  and  that  at  the  time  when 
he  traveled  with  me,  he  was  on  his  way,  with  calculations  of  an 
important  nature,  to  the  first  lord  of  the  treasury,  the  prime  min- 
ister of  England. 

I  felt  little  in  my  own  eyes.  Oh,  it  does  us  good,  when  puffed 
up  with  an  undue  notion  of  our  own  importance,  to  meet  with  a 
reprimand  like  this.  It  was  a  rap  on  the  knuckles  that  I  shall 
not  soon  forget,  nor  do  I  think  that  from  that  time  to  this,  I  have 
ever  undervalued  a  man  on  account  of  his  appearance.  What  my 
companion  thought  of  me,  I  cannot  tell,  but  I  know  well  what  I 
thought  of  myself.  It  was  altogether  a  humbling  affair,  and  taught 
me  to  prize  more  highly  than  I  did  before,  the  injunction  of  holy 
writ,  "  Mind  not  high  things,  but  condescend  to  men  of  low  estate. 
Be  not  wise  in  your  own  conceits." 


The  Liar. — As  you  would  avoid  the  paths  of  sorrow  and  misery, 
as  you  would  turn  from  the  crumbling  precipice,  run  for  your  life 
from  the  steps  of  the  liar.  His  breath  will  pollute  and  destroy.  None 
can  confide  in  him — none  trust  him.  He  is  hated  by  his  companions, 
and  shunned  by  his  friends.  Should  you  get  entangled  in  his  snares, 
use  the  utmost  exertion  and  prudence  to  regain  your  former  stand- 
ing ;  for  unless  you  do,  farewell  to  your  hopes — to  all  your  joys ! 


216 


THE   GIRL   AND   THE   FIREFLIES. 


THE  GIEL  AND  THE  FIRE-FLIES. 


HE  dimness  of  twilight  fell  upon  a  white  cottage 
and  its  enclosure  of  trees  and  flowering  shrubs. 
,^  ^     As  the  darkness  increased,  fire-flies  glanced  thickly 
^-^      through  the  air, — a  shower  of  living  jewels. 

"  Oh,  how  pretty  !"  cried  a  little  blue-eyed  girl,  rushing 
from  the  cottage  with  her  apron  outspread,  to  capture  the 
glittering  insects.  Two  or  three  were  imprisoned,  and  seating 
herself  upon  the  grass  beneath  the  lofty  boughs,  she  carefully  in- 
spected her  booty.  While  she  did  so,  her  sunny  face  grew  clouded 
with  disappointment ;  and,  throwing  the  dull,  brown  creature  from 
her  with  disgust,  she  exclaimed,  "  They  are  not  pretty  any  more !" 
"  Ah  !  my  little  one,"  said  her  mother,  "  this  is  but  a  symbol 
of  the  more  bitter  disappointments  that  await  you  in  life.  Pleas- 
ures will  flutter  around  your  path,  and  you  will  pursue  them  only 
to  fling  them  from  you,  and  say,  '  They  are  beautiful  no  longer.' 
But  see,  your  released  fii-e-flies,  bright  enough  upon  the  wing, 
sparkle  now  as  gaily  as  ever.  Learn,  then,  not  to  despise  tlie  en- 
joyments of  earth,  nor  to  expect  fiom  thera  too  much  happiness. 
Fleeting  and  changeful  as  they  are,  they  light  up  the  darkness  of 
our  mortal  pilgrimage,  and  point  our  immortal  part  to  heaven 
for  perfect  bliss."  l.  l. 


PRESIDENT  WASHINGTON. 

One  day,  as  the  President  was  walking  down  Market  street,  in 
Philadelphia,  with  a  friend,  he  met  a  colored  man,  who  made  a  bow 
to  him.  Washington  politely  bowed  io  him.  "What!"  said  his 
proud  friend,  "  do  you  bow  to  a  negro  ?"  "  To  be  sure  I  do,"  said 
Washington  ;  "  do  you  think  I  would  not  be  as  polite  as  a  black 
man  «" 


WORK  AND   PLAY. 


217 


WOEK  AND  PLAY. 


"All  work  and  no  play,  makes  Jack  a   dull  boy." 

It  is  doubtful  whether  among  all  the  sayings  of  Poor  Richard, 
'  there  is  one  which  gives  such  universal  satisfaction  to  little  folks  as 
'  this — one  to  whose  truth  they  can  more  heart'ihj  subscribe. 
I  What  boy  would  like  to  be  a  dull  hoy?  A  dull  boy  will  event- 
I  ually  prove  a  dull  man,  and  who  would  like  to  think  that  in  a  per- 
1  baps  long  life  before  him,  this  dullness  should  name  one  of  Aisdistin- 
i  guishing  traits  ?  The  very  idea  of  such  a  thing  being  possible, 
1  makes  the  boy's  pulse  beat  faster,  and  he  would  at  once  run  out 
on  the  play-ground. 

Play  is  such  a  pleasant  antidote  for  dullness  !  "  "What  a  kind 
;  physician  was  Dr.  Franklin,  to  prescribe  so  agTeeably  to  the  tastes 
and  inclinations  of  his  patients,  the  rising  generation  !"  So  is  many 
a  boy  ready  to  exclaim,  as  he  throws  into  the  ball  club  his  whole 
strength  of  muscle,  or  exercises  his  lungs  and  limbs  to  their  full 
measure  in  the  exhilarating  "  I  spy."     "What  a  ivise  physician  was 

VOL.  IV.  10  NR 


218  ORIGIN   OF   THE   TERM   BLACKGUARD. 

Dr.  Franklin,"  5.13^8  many  an  older  head,  as  the  perhaps  weary, 
listless  boy  at  his  work  has,  after  a  few  minutes'  pastime,  returned 
to  his  task  with  new  zest  and  vigor.  "  Yes,  wise,''^  will  echo  the 
boy,  glad  ever  to  find  wisdom  in  what  is  so  very  delightful  to  his 
feelings — "  wise  as  well  as  pleasant." 

Life,  to  answer  its  end  and  aim,  must  be  an  active,  earnest  life. 
So  dullness  is  a  disease,  a  spiritual  and  bodily  disease,  which  in 
time  will  become  chronic.  Dullness  a  disease,  and  pla^  its  anti- 
dote !  Will  not  this  truth  be  easy  for  boys  to  remember,  and  will 
not  the  application  prove  still  easier  ? 

Like  the  homoeopathic  dose,  the  remedy  of  Dr.  Franklin's  is  ever 
welcome  to  the  paient — it  would  not  be  unpleasant  to  have  a  few 
more  grains  than  are  absolutely  necessary.  But  the  good  effect 
of  all  remedies  Hes  in  taking  enough  for  antidote  or  cure,  and  no 
more.  The  homoeopathic  dose  is  a  small  one,  and  allowed  at  inter- 
vals. So  doubtless  Dr.  Franklin  meant  that  his  prescription  should 
be.  Will  boys  remember  this  latter  truth,  in  connection  with  the 
former  mentioned  ?  l. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  TERM  BLACKGUARD.  ■ 

Everybody  is  familiar  with  the  epithet  hlackguard,  though  few, 
perhaps,  know  how  *it  fii-st  came  into  use.  Giftbrd,  in  his  notes 
to  the  works  of  Ben  Jonson,  gives  us  some  clue  to  the  thing.  In 
all  great  houses,  but  particularly  in  royal  residences,  there  were  a 
number  of  mean  and  dirty  dependents,  whose  office  it  was  to  at- 
tend the  wood-yard,  sculleries,  (fee.  Of  these  (for  in  the  lowest, 
depth  there  was  a  lower  still)  the  most  forlorn  wretches  seem  to 
have  been  selected  to  carry  coals  to  the  kitchens,  halls,  <fec.  To 
this  smutty  regiment,  who  attended  the  progresses,  and  rode  in 
the  carts  with  the  pots  and  kettles,  which,  with  every  other  article 
of  furniture,  were  then  moved  from  palace  to  palace,  the  people  in 
derision  gave  the  name  of  blackguards^  a  term  since  become  suffi- 
ciently familiar,  and  never  before  properly  explained. 


I 


A  PEEP  AT  ROCKVILLE. 


219 


A  PEEP  AT  EOCKVILLE. 


BY    AUNT    ANX. 


MUST  tell  you,  dear  reader,  a  little  about  the  beautiful 
village  where  I  live.     In  the  Green  Mountain  State, 
in  one  of  the  vallevs  that  lie  between  the  hio'h  hills, 
_>^^^^       is  a  busy  little  place  which  the  Indians  used  to  call 
\    Scictchiwag^  but  which  we  will  name  Rockville. 
(        There  is  a  river  running  through  it,  the  water  of  which 
'       is  so  dark,  it  is  called  Black  River. 

You  would  laugh  to  see  how  it  comes  running  and  frolicking 
over  the  rocks  in  its  path,  and  just  in  the  centre  of  the  village  it 
makes  a  leap  over  a  ledge  of  rock  fifty  feet  high,  dashing  the  spray 
about,  and  making  the  water  foam  as  if  it  were  angry  at  the  inter- 
ruption. But  in  a  sunny  day,  there  is  a  beautiful  rainbow  right 
over  the  falls,  and  at  such  times,  when  you  are  "looking,  it  seems 
almost  as  if  it  quieted  the  waters,  for  just  below  the  rapids  they 
flow  on  very  peacefull}',  and  soon  enter  the  broad  Connecticut,  and 
then  go,  you  know  where,  if  you  remember  your  geography  lessons. 
When  I  first  saw  this  place,  many  years  ago,  I  thought  it  very 
beautiful.  The  only  house  near  the  falls  was  a  little  old-fashioned 
brown  building,  and  all  around  were  dark  pine  trees,  with  now  and 
then  a  poplar,  a  spruce,  or  a  hemlock.  A  rude  but  strong  bridge 
was  thrown  across  the  riv^er,  just  where  the  water  entered  the  deep 
gulf  between  the  high,  smooth  rocks.  But  you  know,  perhaps,  that 
such  a  fall  of  water  is  very  useful  to  turn  mill-wheels,  and  men 
have  been  very  busy  the  last  twenty  years  in  New  England  in  find- 
ing all  such  places.  This  has  not  escaped  them,  and  now  if  you 
come  liere,  you  will  hear  the  noise  of  a  great  many  little  factories 
and  shops.  And  you  will  see  a  dam  up  the  river,  and  a  dam  down 
the  river,  and  out  of  one  building  will  come  the  miller  with  his 
white  hat,  and  out  of  another  a  troop  of  girls,  and  by  the  side  of 


220  A  PEEP  AT  ROCKVILLE. 

another  stands  a  team  loaded  with  shoe  pegs,  and  yonder  another 
with  clothes'  pins,  and  here  again  a  wheelbarrow  load  of  sand- 
paper. Oh,  it  is  the  busiest  little  place  you  ever  saw,  and  you 
would  like  to  go  round  with  me  and  see  some  of  these  shops. 
Let  me  take  you  to  one  now.  It  stands  back  of  tliat  brick  cotton 
factory,  and  part  of  it  is  built  over  the  water.  We  will  turn  down 
a  little  path  and  enter  it.  It  is  a  card  factory.  These  cards  are 
used  for  carding  wool  and  cotton  in  the  mills.  It  is  not  many 
years  since  they  were  all  made  by  hand,  the  holes  punched  with 
needles  through  the  leather,  and  then  women  and  children  were 
employed  to  set  the  teeth.  But  a  gentleman  in  Cambridge,  Eng- 
land, invented  a  machine  to  make  them. 

One  was  purchased  by  a  machinist  in  this  country  ;  but  no  per- 
son was  permitted  to  see  it  excepting  the  workmen  who  managed 
it.  "  Uncle  Frederic,"  the  gentleman  to  whom  I  should  introduce 
you  if  you  were  with  me  to  see  the  card  factory  here,  was  then  a 
young  man.  He  is  now  fifty  years  old.  He  looks  rather  pale, 
for  he  has  studied  hard,  and  within  doors  mostly.  His  hair  is 
gray,  but  long  and  curly.  He  has  a  mild,  pleasant  look,  and,  like 
all  good  and  ingenious  men,  loves  children.  So  we  need  not  be 
afraid  to  ask  him  questions. 

He  says  when  he  was  a  little  boy  he  was  all  the  time  inventing 
machines,  making  curious  mouse-traps,  baskets,  engines,  <kc.  Once, 
when  he  was  only  nine  years  old,  he  made  a  mill,  constructed  a 
little  dam  in  the  brook,  made  a  water-wheel,  and  it  worked  well. 
The  frame  was  made  of  poplar  wood,  and  the  roof  covered  neatly 
with  boards. 

Well,  as  I  was  saying,  when  he  was  a  young  man,  he  heard  of 
this  card  machine.  He  could  not  see  it,  but  a  brother  who  could, 
made  some  drawings  for  him,  and  Uncle  Frederic  went  alone  by 
himself,  procured  a  forge  and  tools,  and  made  one  as  good  as  the 
original.  You  cannot  understand  how  diflBcult  this  was,  if  you 
have  never  seen  a  card  machine.  It  is  composed  of  a  great  many 
small  pieces,  and  when  put  together,  it  seems  almost  as  if  it  had 
life.  It  takes  the  iron  wire  from  the  large  round  skeins,  and  after 
making  holes  in  the  leather,  w^hich  is  first  placed  in  contact  with 
the  machine,  it  threads  the  holes  with  the  \\dre  a  great  deal  faster 


THE  PETUXIA  AND  HOLLY  TREE.         221 

than  the  nicest  little  girl  can  thread  her  needle.  Then  it  bends 
them  to  the  proper  shape,  as  you  will  see  they  all  curve  in  one 
direction  if  you  examine  a  piece  of  caid.  What  a  noise  these  ma- 
chines make — like  so  many  clocks  ticking  as  loud  and  as  fast  as 
they  can. 


THE  PETUNIA  AND  HOLLY  TREE. 


A  PURPLE  Petunia  had  clambered  to  tlie  edge  of  a  low  parapet, 
dividino-  neio-hborino-  o-ardens.  It  flnno-  a  cluster  of  its  finest  flow- 
ers  over  the  wall,  and  a  tall  thorn  holly  received  a  portion  on  its 
glossy  leaves. 

"  Beautiful  flower,"  cried  the  dark  green  tree,  "  why  dost  thou 
thus  deck  me  with  thy  purple  sheen  ?" 

The  flower  became  of  deeper  hue,  as  with  a  breath  of  unrivaled 
sweetness  she  softly  nestled  amid  the  armed  leaves,  and  said, "  Thou 
hast  called  me  beautiful,  and  dost  thou  not  know  that  beauty  loves 
valor  ?  I  gazed  at  thy  stately  form,  and  on  the  armor  with  which 
thou  glistenest  at  every  point,  and  methought  that  the  meed  of  the 
brave  was  the  smile  and  the  sweetness  they  defend." 

"  I  can  watch  over  thee,  frail  charge,  for  a  fleeting  time,"  replied 
he  coldly,  "  but  ere  the  armor  of  which  thou  speakest  has  been  dim- 
med with  the  touch  of  dew,  thou  wilt  be  faded  and  dead  on  my 
bosom." 

As  he  ceased,  a  fair  being  robed  in  w^hite  approached  and  culled 
the  cluster,  tearing  it  with  much  exertion  from  the  grasp  of  the 
Holly. 

"  Farewell,"  sighed  the  flower,  as  she  trembled  in  the  maiden's 
grasp,  "  more  blessed  my  fate  to  fade  on  the  bosom  of  Tmocence, 
than  to  die  unwept  in  the  arms  of  Valor !"  e.  a.  c. 


;90 


THE    DUGBEAR    ANT)    ITS    VICTIM. 


THE  BUGBEAR  AND  ITS  VICTIM. 


"Don't  "be    scared  "before   you   are    hurt." 


f^  HIS  is  what  my  old  father  used  to  say  to  us,  when- 
ever he  saw  in  us  any  signs  of  undue  timidity, 
"  Don't  be  scared,  boys,  before  you  are  hurt."  We 
often  thought  that  it  was  of  little  use  to  be  scared 
we  were  hurt.  But  whether  it  were  more  desirable 
lave  a  fright  before  or  after  being  injured,  matters  little 
to  my  present  purpose;  for  whichever  conclusion  we  come 
to,  it  is  better  still  to  investigate  every  occasion  for  alarm,  far 
enough  to  know  whether  there  is  any  real  injury  to  be  dreaded, 
before  yielding  to  our  fears,  and  rather  than  to  distress  others  with 
OTU-  apprehensions.  Of  this  the  old  gentleman  gave  us  some  fine 
illustrations. 

His  father  was  taken  suddenly  and  violently  ill  one  night,  and  it 
became  necessary  to  send  immediately  for  a  physician.  The  good 
old  Doctor  E.  lived  about  five  miles  distant  in  the  village  of  C.  and 
that  distance  must  be  traveled  on  foot,  in  the  dead  of  night.  Re- 
turning, he  proposed  to  take  a  shorter  route,  through  a  very  unfre- 
quented, and  rough,  and  dark,  and  dreary  path,  overhung  by  the 
branches  of  trees  that  shut  out  even  the  glimmer  of  light  from  the 
stars. 

\Yhile  hastening  on  in  the  solitude  and  the  thick  darkness,  sud- 
denly, in  the  most  lonely  and  dismal  part  of  his  route,  some  huge 
object  sprang  up  in  his  path  before  him,  at  his  very  feet.  He  was 
so  near  to  it,  that  another  step  would  have  brought  him  upon  it. 
It  leaped  up  from  amid  this  solitude *and  the  stillness  of  death,  and 
with  clattering  feet,  it  ran  a  few  steps  and  stopped,  and  all  was  still 
again  as  the  grave.     He  felt  his  blood  curdle,  and  his  hat  rise  up 


LAUGHTER.  223 


from  his  head,  as  his  hair  for  a  moment  bristled  up  with  fear. 
His  first  impulse  was  to  run  back.  What  could  it  be  ?  A  mo- 
ment's reflection  convinced  him  that  it  was  something  that  had 
received  as  well  as  given  a  very  sudden  .start,  and  since  the  shock 
was  mutual,  he  might  venture  to  stay  long  enough  to  reconnoitre, 
and  perhaps  discover  the  cause  of  his  sudden  and  unexpected 
fright.  He  could  see  nothing  whatever  ;  but  in  the  direction  of 
the  object,  an  opening  in  the  timber  revealed  the  clear  star-lit 
sky ;  and  stooping  down  until  the  object  was  brought  above  the 
horizon,  he  saw  distinctly  defined  upon  that  faintly  lighted  back- 
ground the  huge  image  of — a  coiv. 

Alas  for  those  tremendously  inflated  fears  !  there  was  nothing 
more  to  hold  their  sides  out,  and  they  at  once  collapsed.  The  hat 
settled  gradually  down  to  its  proper  place,  and  he  was  ready  to 
kick  himself  for  very  shame,  that  he  had  yielded  for  a  moment  to 
those  weak  fears ;  and  he  could  scarcely  refrain,  as  he  hurried  past, 
from  kicking  the  innocent  cause  of  his  fears.  But  he  concluded 
once  more  that  it  was  best  not  to  be  scared  before  he  w^as  hurt,  and 
now  be  had  leisure  to  reflect,  that  there  is  little  benefit  in  being 
scared  after  it. 

If  he  had  allow^ed  himself  to  yeld  to  the  first  impulse  of  his 
fright,  and  to  run  back  two  or  three  miles  to  the  doctor's  to 
tell  his  big  ghost  story,  he  might  have  confirmed  his  fears,  if  he 
had  not  convinced  others  that  substantial  dangers  haunted  that 
desolate  path.  hampdex. 


LAUGHTER. 


"  Laugh  and  grow  fat"  is  quite  a  venerable  adage  ;  and  Sterne 
tells  us  that  every  time  a  man  laughs  he  adds  something  to  his  life. 
An  eccentric  philosopher  of  the  last  century  used  to  say  that  he  liked 
not  only  to  laugh  himself,  but  to  see  laughter  and  hear  laughter. 
Laughter  is  good  for  health  ;  it  is  a  provocative  to  the  appetite, 
and  a  friend  to  digestion.  Dr.  Sydenham  said  the  arrival  of  a 
raerry-andrew  in  a  town  was  more  beneficial  to  the  health  of  the 
inhabitants  than  twenty  asseB  loaded  with  medicine. 


224 


THE   LITTLE   BIRD   THIEF. 


THE  LITTLE  BIRD  THIEF. 


^^     % 


i^J( 


'^^ 


IRDS,  as  well  as  individuals  of  a  species  much 
more  advanced  in  intelligence,  sometimes  steal 
from  eacli  other.  It  is  a  lamentable  story  to  tell  ; 
but  it  is  true.  A  correspondent  fiom  the  State  of 
Vermont  tells  me  an  anecdote  about  a  robin  and  a 
sparrow,  which  shows  the  thieving  propensities  of  one  of 
these  birds,  and  informs  us  at  the  same  time,  how  the 
thief  got  pay  for  his  larcenies.  A  lady,  it  seeius,  busied  herself  oc- 
casionally, for  several  days,  in  the  spring  of  the  yeai*,  in  watching 
the  movements  of  two  birds,  while  they  were  building  their  nests 
near  each  other.  One  of  these  birds  was  a  robin  ;  the  other  a 
sparrow,  or  chipping  bird,  as  he  is  familiarly  called.  The  robin — 
I  give  the  language  of  the  narrator — adopting  the  modern  rule,  I 
suppose,  that  "  might  makes  right,"  had  made  various  depredations 
upon  the  little  chipping  bird,  who  seemed  either  not  to  know  the 
author  of  her  losses,  or  else  to  be  very  patient  under  them.  Some- 
times she  would  sit  and  contemplate  the  altered  condition  of  her 
little  nest,  and  wink  her  little  eyes,  as  if  she  were  growing  wiser, 
and  by-and-bye  "  would  think  it  out,"  as  the  little  folks  say.  In 
the  meantime,  Mr.  Eobin's  nest  was  improving  finely,  and 
needed  only  a  single  strip  of  cotton  wick  to  render  it  ready  for 
Mrs.  Kobin's  occupancy.  This  his  practical  eye  soon  saw  in  the 
nest  below  him,  and  little  chip  suffered  an  abstraction  she  had  not 
had  occasion  to  wonder  over  before.  Soon  our  little  friend  re- 
turned, and  seemed  utterly  unable  to  account  for  this  last  depre- 
dation. She  tiew  into  the  bush  above  the  robin's  nest,  to  think 
the  matter  over.  Soon  she  saw  the  nest,  and  approached  for  a 
nearer  view,  when,  with  apparently  the  greatest  rage  and  violence, 
she  flew  into  the  nest,  and  tore  it  all  in  pieces. 


THE   GU]S"POWDER  PLOT. 


225 


THE  GUNPOWDER  PLOT. 


.[10  has  not  heard  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  and  of 
;  '  Guy  Fawkes,  the  man  who  had  such  a  promi- 
Uhi  ]^^^^^^  nent  hand  in  it?  You  are  not  among  the 
B:'  '^^g  number,  are  you,  reader  ?  But  have  you  ever  heard  the 
'/^^^^  particulars  about  that  affair  ?  If  nor,  I  will  give  you 
"^B:^    some  of  them. 

-  v.^..  \.        rpj^-g  |;^j.j.5i^Je  scheme,  which  came  so  near  beino-  suc- 

—  '  o 

cessful,  was  set  on  foot  some  two  hundred  years  ago.  It  was  dur- 
ing the  reign  of  James  I.  James,  you  will  recollect,  ascended  the 
tlirone  of  Great  Britain  on  the  death  of  Elizabeth.  lie  was  the 
first  of  the  Stuart  family,  the  son  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  Al- 
though Elizabeth  had  treated  his  mother  veiy  cruelly  during  her 
life,  and  had  at  last  caused  her  to  be  put  to  death,  she  wished  that 
James  should  succeed  her  on  the  throne.  The  mother  of  James 
was  a  Catholic,  and  the  Catholics,  who  had  been  treated  with  a 
good  deal  of  rigor  during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  had  strong  hopes 
that  this  prince  would  treat  them  with  more  favor  ;  but  they  were 
sadly  disappointed  in  these  hopes.  James,  on  all  occasions,  ex- 
pressed his  intention  to  put  in  force  the  laws  which  had  been  en- 
acted against  them,  and  left  them  no  reason  to  hope  that  he  would 
treat  them  more  favorably  than  Elizabeth  had  done. 

The  Catholics,  despairing  of  finding  favor  either  with  the  king 
or  his  parliament,  resolved  upon  a  bold  conspiracy  to  destroy  them 
both  with  one  terrible  blow.  One  of  their  number,  in  his  wrath 
against  James,  proposed  to  assassinate  the  king  ;  but  the  originator 
of  the  plot  opposed  this  plan.  He  argued  that  if  they  could  get 
rid  of  the  king,  his  children  would  remain  to  reign  after  him,  and 
they  would  not  only  inherit  their  father's  vieffs  and  feelings,  but, 
more  than  this,  would  be  actuated  by  a  spirit  of  revenge  for  theij 

VOL.  IV.  10*  ^-R 


226  THE   GUNPOWDER  PLOT. 

father's  death,  and  even  if  they  could  destroy  the  whole  royal  fam- 
ily, the  parliament  and  nobility  entertained  the  same  views  and 
feelings,  and  therefore  the  only  thing  they  could  do,  was  to  destroy 
at  one  blow  all  their  powerful  enemies. 

The  plan  proposed  to  effect  this,  was  to  run  a  mine  below  the 
hall  where  pai  liament  met,  and  store  it  with  powder.  When  tliis 
was  done,  they  were  to  choose  the  moment  when  the  king  was 
addressing  both  houses,  to  apply  a  torch  to  the  powder,  and  in- 
volve them  all  in  one  common  ruin.  It  was  a  dreadful  scheme,  but 
it  came  very  near  being  successful.  The  secret  was  communicated 
to  one  and  another,  each  one  being  bound  by  a  solemn  oath  not  to 
betray  it,  and  though  more  than  twenty  persons  were  in  the  pos- 
session of  this  di-eadful  secret,  it  was  faithfully  kept  for  almost  a 
year  and  a  half. 

The  name  of  one  of  the  prominent  leaders  was  Piercy,  a  descend- 
ant from  a  noble  family.  The  first  step  which  was  taken  w;is  to 
hire  a  liouse  in  Piercy's  name,  next  to  the  one  in  which  parliament 
was  to  assemble.  They  next  commenced  to  dig  through  the  wall 
between  them  and  the  house  in  which  parliament  were  to  meet, 
"which  wall  was  three  feet  in  thickness.  WIkmi  they  were  approach- 
ing the  farther  side  of  this  wall,  they  heard  a  singular  noise,  which 
startled  them,  but  npon  inquiring  into  it,  they  asceitained  that  it 
came  from  the  vault  below  the  House  of  Lords,  which  had  been 
filled  with  coal.  As  this  coal  was  being  sold,  the  vault  would  be 
let  to  the  highest  bidder.  This  was  just  the  opportunity  they 
wanted.  After  securing  possession  of  the  vault,  they  placed  in  it 
thirty-six  barrels  of  powder,  and  covered  them  over  with  sticks  of 
wood.  They  then  boldly  threw  open  the  vault,  that  any  one  who 
chose  might  enter,  in  this  way  preventing  suspicion  that  there  was 
anything  there  which  they  wished  to  conceal. 

Everything  worked  in  their  favor,  and  they  began  to  grow  quite 
sure  of  success.  The  day  now  rapidly  approached  for  the  assembling 
of  the  parliament.  The  king  and  queen,  and  one  of  the  king's 
sons,  Avere  expected  to  be  present ;  and  those  in  the  plot  took 
measures  to  get  into  their  hands  such  membei"s  of  the  royal  family 
as  would  not  be  prt?^ent.  No  remorse  or  pity  seemed  to  find  a 
place  in  the  bosom  of  any  one  of  their  number.     Their  only  re- 


THE   GUNPOWDEPw   PLOT.  227 


irret  seemed  to  be,  that  some  Catholics  would  be  present  as  specta- 
tors or  attendants  on  the  king.  But  the  priests  assured  them  that 
tlie  interests  of  their  religion  required  that  the  innocent  should  be 
sacrificed  with  the  guilt}',  and  this  settled  all  their  doubts,  and  it 
did  not  seem  probable  that  the  secret  would  escape  from  any  one 
of  their  number. 

Put  about  ten  days  before  the  meeting  of  parliament,  one  of  the 
Catholic  members  of  the  House  of  Lords  received  the  following 
letter  : 

"My  L«rd, — Out  of  the  love  I  bear  to  some  of  your  friends,  T 
have  a  care  of  your  preservation  ;  therefore  I  would  advise  you,  as 
you  value  your  life,  to  devise  some  excuse  to  shift  off  your  attend- 
ance at  this  parliament.  For  God  and  man  hath  concurred  to 
punish  the  wickedness  of  this  time.  And  think  not  slightly  of  this 
advertisement ;  but  retire  yourself  into  the  country,  where  you  may 
expect  the  event  in  safety.  For  though  there  be  no  appearance 
of  any  stir,  yet,  I  say,  they  Avill  receive  a  terrible  blow  this  parlia- 
ment, and  yet  they  shall  not  see  who  hurts  them.  This  counsel  is 
not  to  be  contemned,  because  it  may  do  you  good,  and  can  do  you 
no  harm  ;  for  the  danger  is  past  as  soon  as  you  have  burned  the 
letter.  And  I  hope  God  will  give  you  the  grace  to  make  good  use 
of  it,  unto  whose  holy  protection  I  commend  you." 

The  gentleman  to  whom  this  letter  was  addressed,  knew  not 
what  to  make  of  it.  He  was  inclined  to  think  it  only  a  foolish 
attempt  to  frighten  and  ridicule  him.  Still  he  thought  it  the  safest 
plan  to  show  it  to  the  secretary  of  state.  He  too  was  inclined  to 
make  light  of  it,  yet  when  the  king  arrived  in  town  a  few  days 
after,  he  laid  the  letter  before  him.  The  king  thought  less  lightly 
of  it.  The  eai-nest,  serious  style  of  the  letter  seemed  to  imply 
something  important  and  dangerous.  Some  expressions  in  the 
letter  suggested  to  the  mind  of  the  king  that  there  might  be  some 
contrivance  by  gunpowder,  and  it  was  proposed  to  examine  all  the 
vaults  below  the  houses  of  parliament. 

Those  who  originated  the  plot  had  sent  over  to  the  continent  for 
one  Guy  Fawkes,  a  man  whom  they  thought  just  the  one  for  their 
purpose.  This  man  passed  as  Piei'cy's  serwint,  and  took  a  very 
prominent  part  in  the  preparations  for  the  execution  of  the  plot. 


228  AN   ALARMING  THEFT. 

The  lord  chamberlnin,  to  whom  the  business  of  inspecting  the  vaults 
was  committed,  purposely  delayed  the  search  until  the  day  befoi-e 
the  meeting  of  parliament.  AVhen  he  visited  the  vaultvS,  he  ob- 
served the  great  piles  of  wood  which  lay  in  the  vault  under  the 
upper  house.  He  also  cast  his  eye  upon  Fawkes,  who  stood  in  a 
dark  corner  of  the  vault,  and  was  not  altogether  pleased  with  his 
appearance.  Things  on  the  whole  looked  so  suspicious,  it  was 
agreed  that  a  thorough  search  should  be  made  af)0ut  midnight. 

A  justice  of  the  peace  was  sent  ^\/th  proper  attendants,  and  be- 
fore the  door  of  the  vault  they  found  Fawkes,  who  had  just  com- 
pleted all  hi^  preparations.  They  seized  him,  and,  turning  over 
the  wood,  discovered  the  powder.  ^latches,  and  everything  proper 
for  setting  fire  to  the  train  were  found  in  Fawkes'  pocket.  AVhon 
he  found  that  his  guilt  was  fully  proved,  he  boldly  declared  that 
his  only  regret  was  that  he  had  lost  the  opportunity  of  firing  the 
powder  and  destroying  his  enemies. 

The  ceremony  of  examining  the  vaults  under  the  houses  of  par- 
liament, before  the  meeting  of  that  body,  is  still  retained,  though 
of  course  it  is  only  a  ceremony,  as  no  one  expects  to  find  powder 
concealed  there  now.  The  boys  on  this  day  collect  in  companies, 
each  company  carrying  an  image  of  Guy  Fawkes.  When  two  of 
these  companies  meet  in  the  street,  a  regular  fight  follows  ;  the  ob- 
ject of  each  party  being  to  capture  the  Guy  of  the  other^ 


AN  ALAEMING  THEFT, 

A  BAKER  in  England  stole  a  tombstone  for  the  hearth  of  his 
oven.  One  of  his  customers,  finding  DeatWs  head  on  the  bottom 
of  his  loaf  of  bread,  ran  in  dismay  to  his  deacon,  fearing  the  en^ 
of  the  world  was  approaching.  The  latter  was  in  equal  trepi<i.. 
tion,  when,  on  examining  his  own  loaf,  he  f)UMd  the  marrow- 
hones.  In  their  alarm  they  had  recourse  to  the  parson,  who  culd 
aftbid  them  no  consolation,  inasmuch  as  ^''  ResurgaiiC  was  legibly 
sot  forth  in  bold  relief  upon  his  own  loaf. 


TWO   WAYS   OF   BEAEINO  DISAPPOINTMENT. 


229 


TWO  WAYS  OF  BEAKING-  DISAPPOmTMEXT. 


BY    COUSIN    KATE. 


r>^ 


h>^ 


^  -^^-^    ^  - 

^  HERE  will  be  no  school  to-morrow.     How  I  wish 
^    we  could  go  over  to  grandfather's,"  said  Mary 
Fowler  to  her  cousin,  Jane  White. 

"  Who  knows  but  we  can  go  ?"  replied  Jane. 
"  I  am  not  sure  but  brother  George,  who  is  at  "home  now, 
would  take  us  over,  if  we  should  ask  him." 

"  Do  you  believe  he  would  ?      Do  ask  him  then,  pray 


dol' 


*•'  I  will,  if  you  will  go  home  with  me,  and  be  there  to  second  the 
motion." 

"  Yes,  I  will.     I  will  second  it,  with  all  my  heart." 

"George,  are  you  going-  over  to  see  grandfather  before  you  go 
back  to  New  York  ?"  said  Jane  to  her  brother. 

George  was  engaged  with  a  book,  and  was  about  carelessly  to 
reply  that  he  did  not  know,  when,  casting  a  glance  toward-s  Jane 
and  Mary,  he  saw^  that  they  were  both  awaiting  his  answer,  with 
great  interest  and  ill-concealed  anxiety.  He  now  undei'stood  pretty 
clearly  the  bearing  of  the  question,  and  while  a  mischievous  smile 
lurked  in  a  corner  of  his  mouth,  he  replied, 

"  Well,  possibly  I  might,  if  I  thought  there  were  any  hope  of 
persuading  my  cousin  Mary  and  sister  Jane  to  go  with  me,  to  pre- 
vent my  losing  the  way.  Do  you  think  I  could  have  their  com- 
pany ?" 

Jane  did  not  reply  at  once,  for  tliough  she  felt  really  grateful 
fur  her  brother's  kindness  in  anticipating  her  wishes,  before  they  were 
expressed,  yet  she  felt  just  the  least  bit  vexed  that  brother  Georo-e 
always  did  k\iow  just  what  she  was  thinking  about,  before  she  had 


230  TWO   WAYS   OF   BEARING  DISAPPOINTMENT. 

uttered  a  dozen  words  She  sometimes  liked  to  approach  a  sub- 
ject by  degrees,  but  George  would  always  jump  right  into  the 
middle  of  a  thing. 

She  stood  blushing,  in  answer  to  her  brother's  question,  until 
Maiy  came  to  her  aid,  by  boldly  saying,  "  Yes,  cousin  George,  we 
can  show  you  the  way  just  as  well  as  not  to-morrow,  for  there  is 
no  school." 

"  Then  I  may  lose  my  guides  if  I  do  not  go  to-morrow.  This 
is  a  fact  to  be  taken  into  serious  consideration,"  said  George,  with 
assumed  gravity.  "John,"  said  he,  raising  the  window,  a!id  call- 
ing to  his  father's  hired  man,  wlio  was  passing  by,  "  do  you  think  I 
can  have  the  use  of  Jerry  to-morrow^  to  ride  over  to  grandfather's  ?" 

"  I  presume  you  can,"  said  John.  "  He  will  not  be  wanted  on 
the  farm  to-morrow." 

"  Very  well,"  said  George,  closing  the  window.  "All  right," 
said  he,  turning  to  the  girls,  "  a  horse  and  guides  engaged  for  to- 
mono  \v." 

Jane  and  Mary  looked  the  tlianks  they  hardly  knew  how  to  ex- 
press, as  they  l«ft  George  to  resume  his  reading,  and  went  out  of 
the  room  in  high  spirits,  at  the  complete  success  of  their  scheme. 

But  the  weather  did  not  prove  as  accommodating  as  brother 
George.  The  next  morning  was  cloudy  and  dark.  Mary  looked 
in  the  western  sky  until  her  eyes  ached,  to  find  one  bright  spot; 
but  findin^i  not  one,  she  went  to  look  out  of  the  east  windows. 
Her  father  very  sagely  remarked  that  the  east  was  not  the  place 
to  look  for  fair  weather.  Mary  knew  it  was  not,  but  as  she  could 
not  tiiid  it  in  the  west,  and  could  not  give  it  up,  what  could  she  do 
but  look  in  the  east  for  it,  upon  the  same  principle  that  a  friend 
6f  mine  (famous  for  finding  things  that  others  cannot  find)  says 
she  adopts  when  looking  for  a  lost  article,  which  is  to  look  where 
she  knows  it  is  not.  But  neither  east  or  west  furnished  a  single 
indication  of  favorable  weather. 

Grievously  disajipointed  was  Mary,  and  so  too  was  Jane.  But 
the  question  whether  to  make  the  best  or  the  worst  of  it,  still  re- 
mained for  each  of  them  to  settle.  Mary  chose  the  latter,  and  she 
did,  indeed,  make  the  worst  of  it.  She  refused  to  do  anything  all 
that  day,  but  mourn  because  she  could  not  go  to  grandfather's  with 


TWO   WAYS   OF   BEARING   DISAPPOINTMENT.  281 


cousin  George  and  Jane.  She  would  lounge  around  the  windows 
by  the  hour  together,  looking  at  the  clouds  and  watching  the  rain, 
every  drop  of  which  she  considered  in  the  light  of  a  personal  ene- 
my to  herself,  although  at  that  moment,  quite  regardless  of  her 
ingratitude,  it  was  performing  the  friendly  office  of  watering  her 
flowers,  which  in  truth  very  much  needed  it.  To  this  same  timely 
rain  was  she  indebted  for  those  large  and  beautiful  berries  which 
she  found  so  delicious  a  few  weeks  after,  and  for  those  fine  potatoes 
which  she  liked  so  well  the  next  winter. 

But  let  us  turn  to  Jane,  who  took  a  very  different  course  from 
Mary,  and  see  how  she  made  the  best  of  it.  Early  in  the  morning 
Jane  saw  very  plainly  that  it  was  to  be  a  long,  long,  rainy  day. 
She  said  to  heiself,  "  I  must  contrive  to  be  very  busy  to-day,  or  it 
will  seem  very  dull,  and  I  shall  be  thinking  all  the  time  about 
going  to  grandfather's.  What  had  I  better  do  ?  Let  me  think. 
There  is  that  dress  of  mine  which  mother  said  I  might  give  to 
poor  Margaret's  little  girl,  if  I  would  make  it  over  for  her.  It 
will  be  a  grand  time  to  do  it  to-day,  for  I  shall  have  a  long  day 
all  to  myself,  and  I  may  not  have  another  very  soon." 

Jane  asked  her  mother  about  it,  who  approved  of  the  plan  very 
much.  She  promised,  if  Jane  would  do  all  she  could  on  the  dress 
that  day,  to  do  the  rest  herself,  so  that  the  dress  might  be  finished 
the  next  morning,  when  Margaret  came  to  wash  for  them. 

Jane  w^orked  very  busily  nearly  all  the  day.  When  she  was  in- 
clined to  feel  bad  because  she  could  not  go  to  her  grandfather's, 
she  tried,  instead  of  thinking  about  it,  to  think  how  pleased  Mar- 
garet and  her  little  girl  would  be  with  the  new  dress.  With  her 
mother's  assistance,  she  finished  the  di-ess  before  night.  It  fitted 
very  nicely  to  her  little  sister  Susan,  w^ho  was  about  the  right  size. 

The  next  morning,  when  Margaret  came  with  her  little  giil, 
Jane  brought  out  the  dress  and  tried  it  on.  The  little  girl  and 
the  mother  both  looked  so  pleased  and  happy,  that  Jane  hardly 
knew  whether  to  be  glad  or  sorry  for  the  rainy  day  which  }>re- 
vented  her  going  to  her  grandfather's.  "  If  I  had  gone,"  she  said, 
"  Margaret's  little  girl  would  not  have  had  her  new  diess  to-dav, 
and  I  don't  know  but  I  enjoy  seeing  them  so  happy,  as  well  as  I 
should  have  enjoyed  going  to  grandfather's." 


282 


A   PET   OUEANG-OUTANG. 


A  PET  OURANG-OUTANG. 

The  following  account  of  a  pet  baboon,  named  Tiian,  is  trans- 
lated from  a  recent  work,  entitled  Voyac/es  et  Recits,  by  Dr.  Yran. 
It  cannot,  I  think,  fail  to  amuse  and  instruct  my  readers.  At  all 
events,  it  has  contributed  g-reatly  to  my  own  amusement  and  in- 
struction : 

When  Tiian  was  intrusted  to  me,  (says  the  author  of  this  book,) 
he  was  about  three  years  old.  Ilis  height  Avas  that  of  a  child  of 
three.  Had  it  not  been  for  his  prominent  abdoipen,  he  would  have 
resembled  a  young  Malay,  diessed  in  some  brown  material,  like 
our  little  sweeps.  "When  I  freed  him  from  the  bamboo  basket  in 
which  he  was  brought  to  me,  he  seized  hold  of  my  hand,  and  tried 
to  drag  me  away,  as  a  little  boy  who  wanted  to  escape  from  some 
disagreeable  object  might  have  done.  I  took  liim  into  ray  room, 
ill  which  M.  Dutroncoy  had  a  sort  of  cell  prepared  for  him.     On 


A   PET   OUIIANG-OUTANG.  233 


seeing  tliis  new  cage,  which  resembled  a  Malay  house,  Tuan  under- 
stood that  it  was  in  future  to  be  his  lodging.  He  let  go  my  hand, 
and  set  about  collecting  all  the  hnen  he  could  find.  He  then 
cnnied  his  booty  into  his  lodging,  and  covered  its  walls  carefully. 
These  arrangements  made,  he  seized  on  a  napkin,  and  having 
draped  himself  in  this  rag  as  majestically  as  an  Arab  in  his  bur- 
nous^ lay  down  in  the  bed  he  had  prepared. 

Tuan's  disposition  was  Yery  mild  ;  to  raise  one's  voice  to  him 
was  sufficient.  Yet  he  now  and  then  had  very  diverting  fits  of 
anger.  One  day  I  took  from  him  a  mango  he  had  stolen.  At  first 
he  tried  to  get  it  back  ;  but  being  unable  to  do  so,  he  uttered 
plaintive  cries,  thrusting  out  his  lips  like  a  pouting  child.  Finding 
that  this  pettishness  had  not  the  success  he  anticipated,  he  threw 
himself  flat  on  his  face,  struck  the  ground  with  his  fist,  and  scream 
ed,  ciied,  and  howled  for  more  than  half  an  hour.  At  last  I  felt 
that  I  was  acting  contrary  to  my  duty  in  refusing  the  fruit  he  de- 
sired, for,  in  opposition  to  God's  will,  I  was  seeking  to  bend  to  the 
exigencies  of  our  civilization,  the  independent  nature  which  he  had 
sent  into  the  world  amid  virgin  forests,  in  order  that  it  should  obey 
all  its  instincts  and  satisfy  all  its  longings.  I  approached  ray  ward, 
calling  him  by  the  most  endearing  names,  and  oftered  him  the 
mango.  As  soon  as  it  was  within  his  reach  he  clutched  it  with 
violence,  and  threw  it  at  my  head.  He  was,  however,  only  on  rare 
occasions  peevish  and  naughty. 

When  I  first  let  Tuan  dine  with  me  at  table,  he  adopted  a  some- 
what incorrect  mode  of  pointing  out  the  objects  which  were  pleasing 
to  him.  He  stretched  out  his  brown  hand,  and  tried  to  put  upon 
his  plate  all  that  he  could  lay  hold  of.  I  gave  him  a  box  on  the 
ear  to  make  him  understand  politeness.  He  then  made  use  of  a 
stratagem  ;  he  covered  his  face  with  one  hand,  while  he  stretched 
the  other  toward  the  dish.  This  scheme  answei-ed  no  better,  for  I 
hit  the  guilty  hand  with  the  handle  of  my  kwife.  From  that  mo- 
ment my  intelligpiit  pupil  understood  that  he  was  to  wait  to  be  helped. 

He  very  quickly  learned  to  eat  his  soup  with  a  spoon,  in  this 
way  :  a  thin  soup  was  placed  before  him  ;  he  got  upon  the  table, 
like  a  dog,  lapping,  and  tried  to  suck  it  up  slowly.  This  method 
a])j)earing  inconvenient  to   him,  he  set  down  again  on  his  chair, 


234  A   PET   OURAXG-OUTANG. 

and  took  his  plate  in  both  hands,  but  as  he  raised  it  to  his  lips,  lie 
spilled  a  portion  of  it  over  his  breast.  I  then  took  a  spoon,  and 
showed  him  how  to  use  it.  He  immediately  imitated  me,  and  ever 
after  made  use  of  that  implement. 

When  I  brought  Tuan  on  board  the  "  Cleopatra,"  he  was  domi- 
ciled at  the  foot  of  the  mainmast  and  left  completely  free.  He 
went  in  and  out  of  his  habitation  when  he  pleased.  The  sailors  re- 
ceived him  as  a  friend,  and  undertook  to  initiate  him  in  the  cus- 
toms of  a  sea-faring  life.  A  little  tin  basin  and  spoon  were  given 
bim,  which  he  carefully  shut  up  in  his  house,  and  at  meal  times  he 
went  to  the  distribution  of  provisions  with  the  crew.  It  was  funny 
to  see  him,  especially  in  the  morning,  getting  his  basin  filled  with 
coftee,  and  then  sitting  comfortably  down  to  take  his  first  meal  in 
company  with  his  friends,  the  cabin  boys. 

Tuan  acquired  the  habits  of  a  gourmand  while  on  board  ;  he 
drank  wine,  and  had  even  become  deeply  learned  in  the  art  of  ap- 
preciating that  liquid.  One  day  two  glasses  were  off*ered  him — 
one  half  full  of  champagne,  the  other  half  full  of  claret.  Wlien 
he  had  a  glass  in  each  hand,  some  one  tried  to  deprive  him  of  that 
containing  the  champagne.  To  defend  himself,  he  hastily  brought 
his  disengaged  hand  up  to  the  one  which  had  been  seized  hold  of, 
and  having  by  a  dexterous  etfort  succeeded  in  freeing  it,  he  poured 
the  sparkling  liquid  into  the  glass  of  which  he  had  undisturbed 
possession.  He  then  held  out  the  empty  glass  to  the  person  who 
had  tried  to  deprive  him  of  it. 

Tliis  act,  so  well  conceived  and  so  difficult  to  execute,  was  fol- 
lowed by  one  no  less  remarkable.  Tuan  was  among  the  ropes, 
and  would  not  come  down,  in  spite  of  my  reiterated  orders.  I 
showed  him  a  glass  of  beer  to  persuade  him  to  come  to  me.  He 
looked  a  long  while  at  what  1  oftered  him;  then,  not  trusting  per- 
fectly to  what  he  saw,  he  took  a  rope,  and  with  admirable  precis- 
ion, directed  its  end  into  the  glass.  He  then  drew  up  the  rope, 
put  the  end  he  had  dipped  into  the  liquid  into  his  mouth,  and 
having  made  sure  of  the  flavor,  hastened  down  to  share  the  bev- 
erage with  me. 

It  is  fiilse  that  ourang-outangs  have  been  taught  to  smoke ;  Tuan 
and  all  those  I  have  seen  were  unable  to  execute  that  act. 


Handel's  okgan-playing.  235 

Tuan  took  possession  of  all  the  pieces  of  stuff,  or  clothing,  he 
found,  and  either  threw  them  over  his  shoulders,  or  covered  his 
head  with  them.  Handkerchiefs,  napkins,  shirts,  or  carpets,  which 
came  in  his  way,  were  indiscriminately  used  for  this  purpose.  In 
those  burning  countries  it  was,  most  certainly,  not  the  temperature 
which  led  him  to  wrap  himself  up  ;  it  was  not  a  feeling  of  decency 
either  ;  for  he  only  protected  the  upper  portions  of  his  body  with 
these  varied  draperies. 

If  an  animal  invaded  his  cage,  Tuan  drove  him  away  unmerci- 
fully. One  day  he  even  picked  the  feathers  out  of  a  pigeon  who 
had  been  struck  with  the  unfortunate  idea  of  takins"  refuo-e  .there. 

Wherever  we  put  into  harbor,  I  brought  him  clusters  of  ban- 
anas ;  the  tVuits  were  -placed  with  those  belonging  to  the  officers  of 
the  staff.  Tuan  had  leave  to  enter  this  sanctuary  at  his  pleasure. 
Provided  he  had  been  once  shown  which  clusters  belonged  to  him, 
he  lespected  the  others  till  such  time  as  he  had  exhausted  his  own 
provision.  After  that,  he  no  longer  went  ostensibly  and  boldly  in 
search  of  fruit,  but  by  stealth,  crawling  like  a  serpent ;  the  larceny 
committed,  he  came  up  again  faster  than  he  had  gone  down. 


HANDEL'S  ORGAN-PLAYINa. 

The  celebrated  Handel  being  once  in  a  country  church,  asked 
the  organist  to  permit  him  to  play  the  congregation  out,  to  which 
he  readily  consented.  Handel  took  his  seat  at  the  organ,  and 
began  to  play  ^n  such  a  masterly  manner  as  to  instantly  attract 
the  attention  of  the  people,  who,  instead  of  vacating  their  seats 
as  usual,  remained  for  a  considerable  time,  fixed  in  silent  admira- 
tion. The  organist  began  to  be  impatient  (perhaps  his  wife  was 
waiting  dime'-)  and  at  length,  addressing  the  performer,  told  him 
that  he  could  not  play  the  people  out,  and  advised  him  to  relin- 
quish the  attempt ;  which  done,  a  few  harsh  strains,  in  the  accus- 
tomed manner,  operated  like  the  reading  of  the  riot  act,  by  in- 
stantly dispersing  the  audience. 


236 


THE   SMOOTH   SHILLING. 


THE   SMOOTH   SHILLING. 


^,^^^:^. 


^4r  IP  !  ^^  DO  not  know  to  whom  to  credit  the  following  observ- 
,-  ations  ;  but  they  are  worthy  the  pen  of  "  Poor  Rich- 
ie ard,"  and  I  hope  they  will  be  carefully  read  and 
seriously  pondered  : 
•\  ''  That  piece  won't  go,  sir,"  observed  the  man  behind  the 
(  counter,  handing  me  back  again  a  shilling  so  worn  that  no- 
^  thing  could  be  seen  on  either  side  of  it  but  a  dull,  silver 
lustre,  and  no  perceptible  figure.  I  took  it,  and  replaced  it  in  my 
purse.  But  as  I  rode  home,  my  meditations  were  on  the  shilling. 
"  It  won't  go,"  he  said  ;  but  why  not  ?  It  is  no  doubt  a  genuine 
coin.  For  ten,  twenty,  and  even  fifty  years,  it  has  been  in  con- 
stant circulation.  The  hands  of  some  thousands  of  persons  have 
held  it.  It  has  sparkled  as  a  ])retty  toy  in  the  tiny  fingers  of  some 
sweet  child  ;  it  has  been  clutched  by  the  hand  of  a  miser.  It  has 
been  laid  upon  the- glazed  eye-ball  of  a  youth  in  a  shroud  ;  clinked 
in  the  till  of  the  merchant ;  been  tossed  to  the  street  musician,  as 
an  inducement  to  him  to  cut  short  the  agony  of  his  organ.  It 
has  traveled  through  the  States,  passing  current  everywhere.  It 
has  been  exchano-ed  in  its  time  for  commodities  enouMi  to  make 
any  beggar  rich.  To  multitudes  it  has  brought,  over  and  over 
again,  in  some  shape,  the  worth  of  a  shilling.  Others  have  pos- 
sessed and  lost  it,  but  obtained  no  equivalent.  It  was  their  fault, 
however,  not  the  shilling's.  But  now  the  tide  is  turned.  The 
f  lithful  piece  of  money  would  be  delinquent.  "  It  won't  go." 
But  why  not?  I  again  ask.  Because  it  is  smooth.  Its  surface 
tells  no  tale  that  we  can  credit.  It  bears  not  the  impress  of  the 
mint,  or  the  government  insignia.  Xo  head  pillars  or  date  does 
it  show.  A  coin  must  have  impressions,  or  it  is  only  a  plaything, 
a  medal,  or  a  silver  button  mould.  Smooth  pieces  of  silver  won't 
go  any  better  than  if  they  were  bits  of  my  grandmother's  spoons, 
or  those  famous  old  knee-buckles  that  figured  on  my  grandfather's 


THE   POOR   BOY   AND   THE   RECTOR.  237 

small  clothes.  Here,  thought  I,  is  a  lessou  for  us.  Our  minds, 
hearts,  and  lives  must  bear  the  right  impressions,  or  we  cannot  pass 
current  in  good  society.  Of  little  worth  is  he  in  life  of  whom 
the  smooth  shilling  is  a  type.  The  man  on  whom  you  can  see  no 
head,  or  date,  or  stars,  or  pillar,  or  eagle — nothing  by  which  it 
could  be  guessed  that  he  was  "  E  Pluribus  Unura,"  his  expression 
only  the  dull  resemblance  of  tarnished  silver,  his  eyes  of  pewter, 
his  soul  unmarked  with  any  trace  or  bound  of  moral  obligation, 
of  generous  sympathy,  of  Christian  fervor,  everybody  is  ready  to 
say  of  him,  "  it  won't  go,  sir."  It  ought  not  to  go.  It  has  been 
loosely  drifting  about  long  enough.  It  is  time  it  was  returned  to 
the  mint  as  bullion,  to  be  re-issued,  to  receive  the  stamp  of  man. 
Ah  !  there  is  the  fault  with  him.  It  was  the  original  sin  of  his 
education,  that  no  deep,  strong,  correct  impressions  v/as  made  upon 
his  nature.  He  had  no  pious  mother  to  furrow  his  soul  with 
tears;  no  godly  father  to  drive  landmarks  deep  into  the  substance 
of  his  spiritual  existence.  The  pulpit  did  not  rise  along  the  mar- 
gin of  his  affections,  the  breastwork  of  faith  and  hope,  and  fear  of 
God.  The  associations  of  the  Bible  were  unknown  or  unheeded,  so 
that  no  image  or  superscription  of  divine  truth  w^as  ever  inscribed 
upon  him  when  in  the  mint  of  bis  years — his  plastic  infancy. 
The  world,  the  tiesh,  and  Satan,  have  made  him  rough  enough,  but 
no  trace  of  the  divine  government  is  on  him — no  stamp  of  the 
powers  above.  He  is  smooth  for  all  such  impressions,  and  there- 
fore, he  cannot  pass  current. 


THE  POOE  BOY  AXD  THE  EECTOE. 

An  indigent  boy  applied  for  alms  at  the  house  of  an  avaricious 
rector,  and  received  a  dry,  mouldy  crust.  The  rector  inquired  of 
the  bi»y  if  he  could  say  the  Lord's  prayei',  and  w^as  answered  in  the 
negative.  "  Tiien,"  said  the  rector,  "  I  will  teach  you  that.  Our 
P'ather  !" — "  Our  Father  P'  said  the  boy.  "Is  he  my  Father  as 
well  as  yours  ?"  "  Yes,  certainly."  "  Then,"  asked  the  boy,  "  how 
could  you  give  your  poor  brother  this  mouldy  crust  of  bread  ?" 


238 


HOW  A  STORY  GROWS. 


HOW  A  STOEY  GEOWS. 


FARMER  once  was  told  that  his  turnip  field  liad  been 
(  robbed,  and  that  the  robbery  liad  been  committed 
■i  by  a  poor  inoffensive  man,  of  the  name  of  Palmer, 
who,  many  of  the  people  of  the  vilhige  said,  had 
taken  away  a  wagon  load  of  turnips.  Farmer  Brown, 
much  exasperated  by  the  loss  of  his  turnips,  determined 
to  prosecute  poor  Palmer  with  all  the  severity  of  the  law.  With 
this  intention  he  went  to  Molly  Sanders,  the  washerwoman,  who 
had  been  busy  in  spreading  the  report,  to  know  the  whole  truth  ; 
but  Molly  denied  ever  having  said  anything  about  a  wagon  load 
of  turnips.  It  was  but  a  cart  load  that  Palmer  had  taken,  and 
Dame  Ilodson,  the  huckster,  had  told  her  so,  over  and  over  again. 
The  farmer,  hearing  this,  went  to  Dame  Hodson,  who  said  that 
Molly  Sanders  was  always  making  things  worse  than  they  really 
were  ;  that  Palmer  had  taken  only  a  luheelbarrow  fall  of  turnips, 
and  that  she  had  her  account  from  Jenkins,  the  tailor.  Away 
went  the  farmer  to  Jenkins  the  tailor,  who  stoutly  denied  the  ac- 
count altogether;  he  had  only  told  Dame  Ilodson  that  Palmer  had 
pulled  up  several  turnips,  but  how  many  he  could  not  tell,  for  that 
he  did  not  see  him  himself,  but  was  told  it  by  Tom  Slack,  the 
plowman.  Wondering  where  this  would  end.  Farmer  Brown  next 
questioned  Tom  Slack  who,  in  his  turn,  declared  he  had  never  said 
a  word  about  seeing  Palmer  pull  up  several  turnips  ;  he  only  said, 
he  had  heard  say  that  Palmer  had  pulled  up  a  turnip,  and  that 
Barnes,  the  barber,  was  the  person  who  had  told  him  about  it. 
The  farmer,  almost  out  of  patience  at  this  account,  huriied  off  to 
Barnes,  the  barber  ;  who  wondered  much  that  people  should  find 
pleasure  in  spreading  idle  tales  which  had  no  truth  in  them  !  He 
assured  the  farmer  that  all  he  had  said  about  the  matter,  while  he 
took  off  the  beard  of  Tom  Slack,  was,  that /or  all  he  knew,  Palmer 
was  as  likely  a  man  to  pull  up  a  turnip  as  his  neighbors. 


THE   editor's   table   TALK. 


239 


THE   EDITOR'S  TABLE   TALK. 


<3(f^^s^ 


CR   fiiend    and  assistant  S.  N.  has   at   last  been 

^       ,^.  heard  fiom.     Well,  I  am  glad  of  it,  and  so,  no 

riv  V'  ^"^^^"^  doubt,  are  you.  It  seems  that  I  took  a  little  too 
(i  )^^  much  for  granted,  when  I  ventured  to  tell  what  she 
would  do  among  the  polar  bears.  I  have  just  received  a 
o;ood-natured  note  from  her.  I  wonder  whether  she 
meant  to  have  it  printed.  I'll  ask  her,  I  guess.  But  would  it  not 
be  safer  to  print  it  first,  and  ask  her  consent  afterwards  ? 

Now  Uncle  Frank  (so  reads  the  note)  defend  me  from  furnishing 
amusement  to  polar  bears,  as  I  imagine  their  chief  amusement  con- 
sists in  masticatory  exercises  ;  although  one  huge  bear  in  Montreal 
amused  me  not  a  little  by  his  dignifie-d  imitations  of  the  soldiers 
while  practicing  their  military  evolutions.  One  of  our  friends, 
pointing  out  the  different  officers,  said,  "  That  is  Colonel  so  and  so, 
and  that  is  Captain  so  and  so  ;"  "  and  that  I  suppose,"  said  I,  point- 
ing to  Mr.  Bear,  "is  Ursa  Major."  I  meant  to  be  very  funny,  but 
nobody  laughed  ! 

I  did  think,  while  sailing  up  the  river  towards  the  Sault  Ste. 
Marie,  that  1  was  approaching  the  confines  of  Terra  Incognita.  A 
wigwam  here  and  there,  and  occasionally  a  small  frame  house,  the 
residence  of  a  priest,  with  a  crucifix  twice  its  height  in  front  of  it, 
was  all  that  told  of  civilization.  The  Indians  in  that  part  of  the 
country  are  chiefly  Catholics.  But  w^hen  we  reached  the  Sault, 
and  saw  Lake  Superior  stretching  westward  in  its  mightiness,  we 
began  to  think  that  we  had  not  yet  quite  reached  the  big  hole 
which  the  sun  goes  into  every  night. 

Have  you  ever  been  to  the  Sault,  Uncle  Frank  ?  Have  you  ever 
seen  the  rapids  there  ?  Did  you  fish  for  speckled  trout  in  the  little 
rapid  on  the  Canada  side,  and  then  come  down  the  large  rapid  on 


240  THE  editor's  table  talk. 

the  American  side  in  a  bark  canoe,  with  an  Indian  in  each  end  of 
it,  guiding  the  frail  thing  with  poles  past  the  rocks,  which  threat- 
ened death  and  destruction  as  it  went  dashing  by,  through  the 
roaring,  rushing,  foaming,  furious  breakers?  and  when  you  arrived 
at  the  dock  alongside  of  your  old  friend,  the  steamboat,  did  you  feel 
a  supreme  sense  of  thankfulness  at  your  safety,  and  a  keen  percep- 
tion of  your  rashness  and  temerity  in  what  you  had  just  done  ? 
You  never  did  ?  Well,  /  know  some  one  who  did,  and  felt  all 
that !  But  here  I  am  at  home  again,  and  cordially  greet  all  "  in- 
quiring friends."  s.  n. 

AVhy  does  not  some  one  answer  that  prize  charade  in  prose,  to 
be  found  in  the  September  number?  It  is  a  capital  thing,  boys 
and  girls.  Why  don't  you  answer  it  ?  You  needn't  all  speak  at 
once.  One  at  a  time,  and  the  discourse  will  last  the  longer.  But 
look  here,  little  folks.  Don't  you  be  deluded  into  the  notion  that 
B,  c.  J.  has  a  word  with  three  syllables  in  his  mind,  because  he 
never  thought  of  such  a  thing.  Three  zoords,  not  syllables^  are  to 
be  conjured  up.  In  this  case,  it  seems,  a  word  to  the  wise  is  not 
sufficient,  not  (piite  sufficient. 

And  then  there  is  the  riddle  within  a  charade.  Have  you  aban- 
doned that  thing  ?  You  had  better  not  give  it  up  so.  Take  my 
word  for  it,  that  riddle  is  solvable.  Solve  it  then  in  season  to  get 
the  solution  into  the  December  number.  You'll  have  to  hurry  to 
to  do  it  though.  That's  a  fact.  Time,  tide,  and  Uncle  Frank 
wait  for  no  man,  and  but  seldom  for  women  and  children. 


My  unknown  correspondent  at  Glen's  Falls  is  informed,  in  answer 
to  his  (or  her)  question,  that  I  should  like  to  hear  from  him  (or 
her)  again,  and  fjequently. 

NOTICES    OF    RECENT    PUBLICATIONS. 

1.  Messrs.  Dcwitt  tfe  Davenport,  of  this  city,  have  just  issued  a 

neat  edition  of  Jfak  Hardlestone  ;  or,  the  Two  Brothers,  by  Mrs. 

,  Moodie,  sister  of  Agnes  Strickland,  author  of  "  Roughing  it  in  the 

Bush,"  &c.     It  is  a  charming  collection  of  home  pictures  ;  and  all 

those  whose  literary  appetites  are  not  spoiled  by  such  trash  as  comes 


THE   editor's   table   TALK.  241 

from  the  pen  of  Sue,  Bulwer,  and  George  Sand,  will  be  delighted 
with  and  profited  by  it. 

2.  The  Shawm.  "  And  what  is  a  shawm  ?"  An  instrument 
of  music.  "  What  kind  of  an  instrument  ?"  Ah,  there  you  are 
too  hard  for  me.  But  it  was  used  in  the  service  of  the  Jewish 
temple,  and  I  don't  doubt  it  was  a  very  important  instrument. 
Well,  the  name  of  this  instrument,  which  you  will  find  in  the 
Psalms,  accoiding  to  the  version  of  the  Scriptures  called  the 
"  Bishop's  Bible,"  and  also  in  the  Prayer  Book,  Messrs.  Mason 
Brothers,  of  this  city,  have  given  to  "  a  library  of  music,  embrac- 
ing about  one  thousand  pieces,  consisting  of  psalm  and  hymn 
tnnes  adapted  to  any  metre  in  use,  anthems,  chants,  and  set  pieces." 
And  this  "  library  of  music,"  please  to  take  notice,  is  comprised  in 
a  single  volume,  and  sold  at  the  same  price  of  ordinary  collec- 
tions  of  church  music.  My  talented  friend  Mr.  Bradbury,  who  has 
done  so  much  to  please  the  readers  of  the  Cabinet  in  the  musical 
department,  is  the  principal  editor  of  the  book,  and  it  is  to  him  that 
we  are  indebted  for  some  of  the  best  tunes  in  the  collection.  Mr. 
Ptoot,  also,  assisted  in  the  compilation  and  authorship  of  the  work, 
and  so  did  Messrs.  Thomas  Hastings  and  T.  B.  Mason.  I  like  the 
work,  on  the  whole,  exceedingly.  It  is  beautifully  printed,  on  fine, 
though  clean  and  legible  type.  Old  tunes  and  new  are  happily 
commingled,  and  there  is  variety  enough  to  suit  the  taste  of  every 
one.  It  must  become  a  great  favorite  ;  without  disparaging  other 
books,  some  of  which  are  good  old  friends  which  I  would  not  part 
with  on  any  account,  I  am  strongly  inclined,  taking  into  view  the 
quantity  and  the  quality  of  the  music,  to  give  this  collection  the 
preference  over  them  all.  Those  choirs  who  adopt  the  book  will 
never  complain,  I  am  sure,  that  they  have  not  got  the  worth  of 
their  money. 

3.  Lucretia,  the  Quakeress  ;  or,  Principle  Triumphant,  is  a  little 
volume  from  the  pen  of  our  personal  friend  and  valued  correspond- 
ent, Mrs.  J.  H.  Hanaford,  of  Nantucket.  It  is  an  exceedingly 
pleasant  narrative,  which  few  can  read  without  interest  and  profit. 
Published  by  Mr.  Bufium,  Cornhill,  Boston. 

VOL.  IV.  11  nn 


242 


THE   PUZZLER  S  DRAWER. 


THE  PUZZLEE'S  DEAWER. 


ANSWER    TO    AN    ENIGMA    FOR    FRENCH    SCHOLARS. 
"  HONI    SOIT    QUI    MAL    Y    PENSE." 

Answered  by  Caroline  M.  P. 


ANSWER    TO    RIDDLE    NO.    IV. 

A  Drop  of  Ink. 


ANSWER    TO    ENIGMA    NO.  V. 
"  Let    NOTHING    BAD    ENTER    HERE." 

Answered  by  S.  E.  Wilson,  of  South  Hanover,  Ind. ;  Alvaro  F.  Gib- 
bens,  of  Parkersbnrg,  Va.  ;  Russell  S.  Avery,  of  Norway,  N.  Y. ;  Ed- 
ward "Win  slow. 


answer  to   names  of  counties  in  the  western  states, 
enigmatically  expressed. 

1.  Mad-i-son.  4.  Bent-gn.  6.  Call-away. 

2.  Lap-eer.  6.  Black-hawk.  7.  Log-an. 

3.  Mars-hall. 

Answered  by  J.  of  Glenn's  Falls,  N.  Y. ;  Anna  Quackenbush,  of 
Schenectady,  N.  Y. 

answer  to  the  prize  charade  in  verse. 
Portugal. 
Answered  by  J.  of  Glenn's  Falls,  N.  Y. ;  S.  N.  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. ; 
M.  H.  Williams,  of  Terry  ville,  Ct. 


might 
man  w 
nirain, 


ANSWER    TO    THE    DOG    PUZZLE. 

I  drew  two  lines  from  the  fore-quarters 
of  each  dog  to  the  hind-quarters  of  each 
other,  but  it  took  four  lines,  Uncle  Frank, 
to  make  them  both  run  off.  s.  n. 

Uncle  Frank  was  not  quite  definite 
enough  in  his  statement.  He  meant  two 
lines  for  each  dog,  whereas  what  he  said 
be  taken  to  mean  only  that  number  for  both  dogs.  That  gentle- 
ill  please  to  have  his  wits  about  him,  should  he  "'go  to  the  dogs" 
and  give  every  dog  his  due. 


DEAWER.  24:8 


The  proper  number  of  lines,  properly  drawn,  are  indicated  in  the 
diagram.  The  dogs,  you  all  see,  are  running  as  if  they  were  on  the 
fresh  track  of  a  fox,  and  expected  to  come  up^vith  him  in  a  few  min- 
utes at  the  outside. 

The  puzzle  was  also  solved  by  J.  of  Glenn's  Falls,  N.  Y. ;  U.  J.  R. 
of  New  Philadelphia,  O. ;  M.  A.  A.  Phinney,  of  Vernon  Centre,  N.  Y. 

answer  to  rebus  no.  ii. 

August,  Augusta. 

Answered  by  J.  of  Glenn's  Falls,  N.  Y. ;  M.  H.  Williams,  of  Terry  ville, 

Ct. ;  Henry  Quackenbush  and  Anna  Quackenbush,  of  Schenectady,  N. 

Y. ;  M.  A.  A.  Phinney,  of  Vernon  Centre,  N.  Y. ;  U.  J.  R.  of  New 

Philadelphia,  O.  

ANSWER    TO    BUDGET    OF    ANAGRAMS    NO.    II. 

S.  N.  who  is  pretty  good  authority  in  such  matters,  says  this  is  the 
best  budget  of  the  kind  she  has  seen  for  a  long  time.  The  writer  will 
please  to  take  the  hint,  and  write  some  more  equally  good. 

1.  Time  ends  rage,  Disagreement. 

2.  Wild  glen,  Dwelling. 

3.  My  curer.  Mercury. 

4.  Wet  hare.  Weather. 
6.  I  cheat  SIR,  Charities. 
6.  Past  ruin,                                   Puritans. 

•  7.  I  STIR  UP  MEN,  Puritanism. 

8.  Pure  wolf,  Powerful. 


ANSWER    TO    riddle    NO.    V. 

It  must  surely  be  moss  that  can  winter  defy, 
And  brighten  the  forest  when  merry  leaves  die  ; 
Which  clings  to  the  cottage,  and  dear  churchyard  wall, 
The  old  ruined  tower,  and  battlement  tall  ; 
But  with  all  that  you've  mentioned,  why  did  you  not  tell 
Of  "  the  moss-covered  bucket  which  hung  in  the  well  ?"      s.  n. 
Also  answered  by  Anna  Quackenbush,  of  Schenectady,  N.  Y. 

answer    TO    CHARADE    NO.    III. 
CONNECT-I-CUT. 

Answered  by  S.  N.  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. ;  M.  A.  A.  Phinney,  of  Ver- 
non  Centre,  N.  Y. 


244  THE  puzzlee's  deawee. 

ANSWER    TO    ENIGMA    NO.   VI. 

"Oh!  Jemmy  help  me  find  this  out," 

Hear  little  Clara  cry; 
So  Jemmy  sat  right  down  and  said, 

"  Yes,  darling,  I  will  try.''''  s.  n. 

Also  answered  by  Henry  Quaekenbush  and  Anna  Quackenbush,  of 
Schenectady,  N.  Y.  

CHARADE    NO.   IV. 

When  any  one  gets  my  first,  his  neighbors  would  do  well  to  get  my 
second  of  him.  My  whole  is  a  city  wherein  each  man  finds  one  mor- 
tal above  him.  altquis. 

ANAGRAMS    OF    SCRIPTURE    PROPER    NAMES,    NO.    I. 

1.  Reach  old  Rome,  3.  Ice  on  a  Dam. 

2.  A  Bachelor,  and  mad.  4.  I  shod  Peter. 

ALIQUIS. 
RIDDLE    NO.    VII. 

T  have  a  little  box,  that  contains  f»ometliing  very  precious  to  mo.  It 
is  a  work  of  exquisite  art,  and  said  by  our  blessed  Saviour  to  be  the 
peculiar  object  of  his  Father's  care ;  and  yet  it  does  not  display  the 
attributes  of  benevolence  or  compassion.  If  I  were  to  lose  it,  no  hu- 
man ingenuity  could  replace  it,  and  yet  to  describe  it  generally,  it  is 
very  abundant.  It  was  given  to  Adam  in  Pariidise  along  with  liis  beau- 
tiful Eve,  though  he  previously  had  it  in  his  possession.  It  will  last 
as  long  as  the  world  exists  ;  and  yet  it  is  destroyed  every  day.  Its  ex- 
istence is  cut  short ;  and  yet  it  dies  not,  but  continues  in  beauty  after 
the  grave  has  closed  over  mortality.  It  is  to  be  found  in  the  ocean  and 
in  all  parts  of  the  earth  ;  while  three  distinct  portions  of  it  are  contained 
in  air.  It  is  seen  on  the  bloody  field  of  battle,  in  the  thickest  of  the 
carnage;  and  yet  it  is  a  boon  of  affection,  a  token  of  amity,  a  pledge 
of  sweet  and  innocent  love.  The  Indian  glories  in  it,  and  generally 
loses  it  only  with  his  life.  It  has  been  used  as  a  napkin,  and  was  said 
by  an  ancient  king  to  form  a  splendid  crown ;  it  indeed  appears  like 
silver,  after  long  exposure  to  the  air. 

No  human  being  but  myself  knows  this  riddle,  and  yet  it  proceeds 
wholly  from  the  head  of  another.  marietta. 


^.^-- 


THK  FLYING    FISH    IN    TROLDLK, 


THE   FLYING   FISH   AND   HIS   ENEMIES.  247 

THE  FLYma  FISH  AND  HIS  ENEMIES. 


F  there  was  ever  a  poor  fellow  to  be  pitied,  it  is  the 
flying  fish.  He  is  game  both  for  the  fowls  of  the 
ail"  and  his  brother  fisjies  of  the  sea.  Sometimes  a 
.  -^  hungry  shark  or  dolphin  will  chase  a  shoal  of  these 
«r*^  flying  fish.  The  monster — monster  to  them — terrifies  them 
^  '  half  out  of  their  wits.  They  try  their  best  to  keep  out  of  the 
^  way  of  him.  But  it  is  of  no  use.  Although  they  can  scud 
through  the  water  as  fast  as  most  of  their  neighbors,  the  shark  can 
outstrip  them  in  a  long  pull.  Flying  fish  have  fins  which  serve  to 
some  extent  the  purposes  of  wings,  and  it  is  from  this  circumstance 
that  they  take  their  name.  Well,  when  these  poor  fugitives  find 
that  there  is  no  safety  for  them  in  their  native  element,  they  have 
recourse  to  their  flying  apparatus.  "  Theie  is  one  thing  you  can't 
do,  old  fellow" — I  suppose  such  to  be  their  thoughts,  though  I 
fi-ankly  confess  that  I  never  heard  them  actually  use  such  lan- 
guage— "  there's  one  thing  you  can't  do.  It  takes  us  to  do  that." 
And  so  they  fly  quite  out  of  the  water,  away  from  the  jaws  of  the 
shark  ;  for  the  shark  can  only  just  thrust  his  head  out  of  the 
water,  and  has  no  power  to  follow  his  prey  in  their  airy  flights. 
"  However,"  he  thinks  to  himself,  "  you  little  fools  !  you  can't  stay 
up  there  many  minutes  ;  I  know  what  you  can  do,  and  what  you 
can't  do;  you'll  have  to  tumble  down  here  soon  ;  and  I  guess  I'll 
wait  for  you,  as  I  have  plenty  of  leisure  on  hand,  and  can  spare 
ten  minutes  as  well  as  not."  And  so  they  do  get  tired  of  fluttering 
there  in  the  air,  at  that  rate  ;  and  besides,  they  don't  find  that  ele- 
ment quite  so  good  for  their  health  as  water  ;  so  down  they  come; 
and  the  shark  pounces  upon  them,  and  swallows  each  one  at  a 
mouthful. 

A  gentleman  was  once  making  a  voyage,  when  he  saw  some 
flying  fish  about  as  badly  oft'  as  a  fish  could  be,  unless  he  were  ac- 
tually in  the  frying-pan.     A  shoal  of  them  were  pursued  by  a  huge 


248  THE  FLYING  FISH  AIST)  HIS  EN^EMIES. 


dolphin,  until  tliey  took  to  their  wings.  But  as  soon  as  they  ven- 
tured above  the  water,  a  couple  of  eagles  made  their  appearance, 
and  showed  unmistakable  evidence  of  their  intention  to  make  a 
meal  of  the  poor  adventurers.  So  between  the  hawks  above  water 
and  the  dolphin  below  it,  the  fish  were  in  a  sad  dilemma.  Be- 
tween these  enemies  on  both  sides  of  there,  they  were  nearly  all 
killed.  The  eagles  took  a  share,  and  the  dolphin  greedily  seized  all 
that  were  left.  Tlie  gentleman  told  the  captain  that  his  notions 
of  justice  were  somewhat  outraged  by  the  spectacle.  It  seemed  Jto 
him  that  the  flying  fish  had  too  many  enemies  by  as  much  as  one, 
and  he  moved  that  something  be  done  about  it.  The  captain 
laughed,  and  sent  below  for  his  rifle.  The  landsman  told  him  he 
was  for  letting  oflf  a  canister  of  grape  from  one  of  the  deck-guns. 
He  didn't  believe  his  rifle  would  reach  as  far  as  the  birds  then 
were  from  the  ship.  "  Can't  waste  so  much  powder  over  such 
game,  Tom,"  said  the  captain,  as  he  carefully  loaded  his  piece. 
"  Walker,  throw  over  some  bits  of  the  dol])hin  we  cauglit  yester- 
day, to  draw  tliose  birds  nearer."  The  plan  took.  The  birds 
seemed  to  prefer  their  food  without  wings,  and  in  heavier  morsels 
than  the  poor  little  flying  fish  afforded.  They  perceived  at  a  won- 
derful distance,  that  something  had  been  thrown  from  the  deck 
into  the  water,  and  came  butloting  each  other  towards  the  stern  to 
reach  it.  The  ship  was  moving  before  a  light  bi'eeze,  which  only 
filled  her  top-sails,  and  the  bait  had  fallen  but  about  twenty  rods 
astern,  when  the  birds  splashed  greedily  down  upon  the  pieces. 
The  captain's  rifle  cracked  at  the  moment,  and  the  ringleader  was 
shot.  He  rose  a  few  feet,  and  fell  heavily  into  the  water.  His 
comrades,  in  great  fright,  took  a  bee  line  away  from  the  vessel. 

The  next  day,  the  gentleman  saw  hundreds  of  flying  fish  in  the 
air  at  once,  with  all  their  old  enemies  in  full  chase.  Several  of  the 
frightened  creatures  actually  fell  upon  deck,  which  was  "  out  of  the 
frying-pan  into  the  fire,"  sure  enough,  for  the  passengers  were  too 
ea^er  to  examine  them,  to  think  of  returning  any  of  them  to  the 
water. 


RAMBLES  IN  BOLOGNA. 


RAMBLES  m  BOLOGNA. 


?oL^^ 


'-  OST  people,  when  they  hear  the  name  of  Bologna 
^\I^^^  ^  mentioned,  think  of  sausages  at  once.  Many, 
^  ^  *"  indeed,  have  got  the  notion  that  this  city  is  fa- 
^'  mens  for  little  else  besides  these  articles.  But  I  can  as- 
^  sure  you,  reader,  if  you  be  among  the  number,  that  you 
T  are  greatly  mistaken.  Sausages,  it  is  true,  there  are  in 
this  place — mammoth  ones,  many  of  which  contain  a  whole  ox — 
but  there  are  other  noteworthy  things  here,  too. 

The  people — I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  quite  proper  to  call  them 
things^  though — are  worth  noticing.  They  are  very  unlike  many 
other  people  in  Italy.  So  little,  in  fact,  do  they  resemble  the  Ro- 
mans or  the  Florentines,  that  you  could  hardly  believe  they  be- 
longed to  the  same  nation.  And  in  fact  they  do  not,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  belong  to  the  same  nation.  Like  other  provinces  in 
Italy,  they  retain  a  great  many  of  the  peculiarities  which  they  had 
before  they  were  under  their  present  despotism,  and  while  they 
were  an  independent  state.  They  take  a  good  deal  of  pnde  in 
their  city.  One  day,  while  I  was  there,  I  was  looking  from  one  of 
the  highest  towers  upon  the  to\vn  and  the  surrounding  country. 
The  guide  whom  I  employed  either  could  not  or  would  not  tell  me 
half  what  I  wanted  to  know  of  the  different  points  of  interest  within 
the  range  of  our  vision.  A  fine-looking  youth,  perceisnng,  I  sup- 
pose, that  I  was  in  "  pursuit  of  knowledge  under  difficulties,"  vol- 
unteered to  aid  me.  I  had  been  talking  to  the  guide  in  French. 
The  lad,  too,  spoke  in  French,  and  very  politely  and  patiently  an- 
swered innumerable  questions  which  I  asked  him.  As  I  thanked 
him  for  his  kindness,  I  said,  "  You  are  a  Frenchman,  I  perceive. 
How  does  it  happen  that  you  are  so  well  acquainted  here  ?"  "  Oh, 
no,  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  am  not  a  Frenchman."     "  Indeed  !"  I  replied, 

VOL.  IV.  11*  DR 


250  RAMBLES  IN  BOLOGNA. 


"  I  should  not  dream  you  were  an  Italian,  you  speak  French  so 
well."  "  And  I  am  not  an  Italian,"  said  he,  drawing  himself  up 
somewhat  proudly,  "  I  am  a  Bolognese  !" 

Bologna  is  situated  in  the  Pope's  dominions.  We  crossed  the 
Papal  frontier,  on  our  way  from  Florence,  at  a  small  place  the 
name  of  which  I  did  not  ascertain,  where  the  officers  of  his  Holi- 
ness detained  the  diligence  a  long  time,  both  to  make  themselves 
doubly  satisfied — theie  were  two  of  them — that  there  were  no 
knaves  among  us  who  were  trying  to  cheat  so  holy  a  man  as  St. 
Peter's  successor,  and  at  the  same  time  to  relieve  us  of  a  few  frane^ 
for  their  own  individual  benefit.  The  city  is  very  picturesquely 
situated,  in  a  fertile  plain  of  considerable  extent  at  the  foot  of  the 
lower  slopes  of  the  Aj>ennines.  It  is  surrounded  by  a  high  brick 
wall,  from  five  to  six  miles  in  circuit.  A  little  river,  called  the 
Lavena,  flows  just  outside  the  wall,  and  a  canal,  connecting  this 
stream  with  the  Reno,  passes  through  the  city.  It  is  said  to  con- 
tain a  population,  at  present,  of  some  seventy  thousand.  The  wall 
of  the  city  has  twelve  gates. 

A  remarkable  feature  in  this  city  is  its  extensive  colonnades, 
similar  to  those  at  Padua.  Whole  streets  for  miles  in  extent,  are 
furnished  with  these  colonnades,  covered  porticoes  running  along 
over  the  sidewalks.  Tiiey  are  very  convenient  in  a  hot  sun  or  in 
rain,  though  in  some  parts  of  the  city  they  are  rather  low,  and  give 
an  air  of  heaviness  and  gloom  to  the  buildings. 

Bologna  is  a  very  old  city.  The  people  can  trace  their  history 
np  to  the  time  of  the  Etruscans,  a  date  a  good  deal  earlier  than  the 
Roman  empire.  It  is  supposed  to  have  been  founded  nearly  600 
years  before  Christ. 

This  city  has  furnished  more  remarkable  painters  than  almost 
any  other  in  Italy.  In  Bologna  originated  the  celebrated  school 
of  the  Caracci  family,  which  accomplished  an  entire  revolution  in 
the  art  of  painting.  The  school  wjis  founded  by  Lodovico  Caracci, 
a  young  man  who,  in  his  early  career,  exhibited  but  very  few  marks 
of  genius.  Some  historian  has  remarked  concerning  him,  that  he 
appeared  for  some  years  much  more  fit  to  grind  paint  than  to  lay 
it  on  the  canvas.  In  after  years,  however,  he  obtained  a  very  dif- 
ferent reputation.     In  his  school  he  was  assisted  by  his  cousins 


RAMBLES    IN  BOLOGNA.  251 

Agostino  and  Annibale  Caracci.  They  succeeded  in  attracting  a 
crowd  of  pupils,  and  their  school  became  famous  all  over  the  civil- 
ized world.  Domenichino,  who  has  by  some  been  considered  next 
to  Raphael  in  genius,  was  a  pupil  in  this  school.  Guido,  scarcely 
less  celebrated,  also  studied  here. 

I  saw  very  few  picture  galleries  in  Europe  which  interested  me 
more  than  that  of  the  Academia  delle  Belle  Arte,  which  I  suppose 
I  need  not  tell  you  means  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts.  There  is 
no  charge  for  admission  here.  You  will  wonder  at  this.  But  you 
will  wonder  still  more,  when  I  tell  you  that  the  same  is  true  of 
nearly  all  the  finest  collections  of  paintings  and  statuary  in  Italy. 
There  is  no  charge  at  the  great  galleries  at  Florence — none  at  the 
Vatican  in  Rome.  I  obtained  a  catalogue  of  the  pictures  in  the 
academy  at  Bologna,  and  marked  on  it  those  pictures  which  de- 
lighted me  most.  I  could  chat  with  you  half  a  day  about  these 
pictures  ;  but  presuming  you  would  grow  sleepy  over  the  subject — 
for  nobody  can  describe  works  of  art  so  as  to  infuse  much  of  the 
enthusiasm  which  he  felt  into  the  listener  or  the  reader — I  will 
ghde  hurriedly  through  the  gallery,  and  soon  conduct  you  to  other 
points  of  attraction.  I  cannot,  however,  help  noticing  two  or  three 
of  the  pictures.  The  "  Crucifixion,"  by  Guido,  is  one  of  the  finest 
representations  of  this  sublime  scene  which  I  ever  saw.  You  can- 
not imagine  how  happily  are  brought  out,  in  this  sketch,  the  agony 
of  our  Saviour,  the  gentle  love  and  adoration  of  John,  the  beloved 
disciple,  the  fervent  feeling  of  Mary  Magdalene,  who  is  kneeling 
and  embracing  the  cross.  Another  picture  by  the  same  master,  is 
very  finely  executed.  It  is  the  "  Victory  of  Samson  over  the  Phil- 
istines." The  sketch  is  so  managed  that  there  is  nothing  bar- 
barous or  forbidding  delineated  in  it,  but  the  story  is  told  in  a 
most  wonderfully  truthfid  and  eff"ective  manner.  Guido  has  a  pic- 
ture of  St.  Sebastian  too,  which,  in  my  humble  judgment,  is  the 
best  of  all  the  St.  Sebastians  I  saw  in  Europe,  not  less,  I  think,  to 
speak  within  bounds,  than  some  two  hundred.  Of  the  pictures  of 
the  Caracci  family,  those  which  especially  pleased  me  were  a  "  Ma- 
donna and  Child  ;"  "  Transfiguration  ;"  "  Nativity  of  John  the 
Baptist ;"  "  The  Last  Communion  of  St.  Jerome." 

The  University  library  is  well  worth  a  visit.     It  contains  140,000 


252  RAMBLES  IN  BOLOGNA. 

volumes  o'  books  and  9,000  manuscripts  of  note.  Among  the 
printed  books  in  this  library,  is  one  which  I  am  sure  you  would 
give  all  your  old  shoes  to  see.  It  is  the  book  which  the  arrogaat 
Henry  VIII.  of  England  wrote  against  one  Martin  Luther,  in  order> 
at  the  same  time  to  get  the  credit  of  being  a  wonderful  scholar  and 
to  secure  a  large  share  of  the  favor  of  the  Pope.  How  successful 
he  was  in  these  aims,  you  are  well  aware.  Nobody  but  the  despi- 
cable courtiers  who  fawned  upon  him  and  trembled  on  their  knees 
before  him,  ever  gave  him  a  thimble-full  of  credit  for  being  a 
learned  man  ;  and  as  to  the  other  thing,  the  Pope  quareled  with 
him,  and  he  had  to  break  off  from  Kome  altogether,  and  set  up 
for  himself — the  very  thing  that  Luther  taught  him  to  do.  Henry's 
famous  book  is  entitled  "  Assertio  Septem  Sacramentorum  adversus 
Martinum  Lutherum.  London,  1512."  It  is  dedicated  to  Leo  X. 
and  has  affixed  to  the  dedication  the  king's  autograph  signature, 
Henricus  Rex.  My  readers  who  understand  Latin  will  not  need 
to  have  me  translate  the  title  of  the  book  for  them,  it  is  to  be  pre- 
sumed. 

This  library  will  ever  be  memorable  on  account  of  its  connec- 
tion with  one  of  the  most  remarkable  scholars  of  any  age.  Cardinal 
Mezzofanti,  who  began  his  career  as  its  librarian.  He  was  the  son 
of  a  humble  tradesman  in  the  city.  So  early  as  the  time  when 
he  filled  the  chair  of  Professor  of  Greek  and  Oriental  Literature  in 
this  university,  he  was  celebrated  all  over  Europe  for  his  aston- 
ishing knowledge  of  languages.  At  the  age  of  thirty-six,  Mezzo- 
fanti read  twenty  different  languages,  and  conversed  fluently  in 
eighteen  ;  and  at  the  time  of  his  death,  which  took  place  in  the 
year  1849,  he  spoke  well  forty-two  languages.  I  have  been  in- 
formed by  one  who  passed  an  hour  or  two  in  his  company  at 
Rome,  that  he  was  perfect  master  of  all  the  modern  languages, 
and  spoke  them  with  all  the  fluency  of  a  native.  Mezzofanti  was 
called  to  Rome  and  created  a  cardinal  by  Gregoj-y  XVI. 

Bologna,  like  all  the  rest  of  the  Italian  cities,  abounds  in  mag- 
nificent churches.  The  church  under  the  patronage,  as  its  name 
signifies,  of  St.  Stephen,  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable.  It  is 
formed  by  the  union  of  seven  churches,  or  chapels.  Here  they 
show  us  a  miraculous  well,  to  the  water  of  which  was  imparted, 


RAMBLES  IN  BOLOGISTA.  253 

through  a  miracle  of  St.  Petronio,  some  most  extraordinary  quali- 
ties. What  the  peculiar  qualities  were,  I  could  not  find  out ;  but 
they  were  deemed  of  so  great  value,  that  this  saint  had  a  splendid 
marble  sepulchre  erected  for  him  here,  and  it  is  pointed  out  to 
the  visitor  with  very  great  veneration.  The  Cathedral,  dedicated 
to  St.  Peter,  is  a  very  ancient  church,  though  the  present  edifice 
was  begun  as  late  as  1601.  In  one  of  the  chapels  of  this  church 
is  preserved  the  skull  of  St.  Anna,  presented  in  1435  by  Henry  VI. 
of  England.  The  largest  church  in  Bologna  is  that  of  San  Pe- 
tronio. It  was  founded  in  1390,  while  Bologna  was  a  repubhc.  It 
is  still  in  an  unfinished  state,  but  a  vast  amount  of  labor  and  im- 
mense sums  of  money  have  been  expended  upon  it.  It  is  said  to 
be  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  the  Italian  Gothic  of  the  four- 
teenth century.  It  was  in  this  church  that  the  emperor  Charles  V. 
was  crowned  by  Pope  Clement  VII.  In  the  church  of  San  Dom- 
enic  is  the  tomb  of  the  patron  saint,  the  founder  of  the  Inquisi- 
tion. Here,  too,  they  show  us  the  head  of  this  saint.  It  is  in- 
closed in  a  silver  case  weighing  one  hundred  and  fourteen  pounds. 
It  was  placed  there  in  1383. 

There  are  two  leaning  towers  in  Bologna,  standing  within  a  few 
yards  of  each  other.  One  is  called  the  Torre  Asinelli,  and  the 
other  To7're  Garisenda.  They  were  both  originally  much  higher 
than  the  leaning  tower  of  Pisa,  though  a  considerable  portion  of 
one  of  them,  on  account  of  its  having  been  deemed  unsafe,  was 
torn  down  some  years  since.  I  went  to  the  top  of  the  Asinelli 
tower.  I  had  before  become  quite  accustomed  to  climbing  towers, 
spires,  and  campaniles  ;  and  this  ascent,  though  embracing  nearly 
four  hundred  and  fifty  steps,  seemed  no  great  achievement.  This 
tower  was  begun  in  1109,  by  Gerardo  Asinelli.  Its  inclination  in 
1706,  as  recorded  by  an  inscription  on  the  wall,  was  ascertained, 
by  careful  measurement,  to  be  three  feet  and  two  inches.  After  a 
severe  earthquake,  which  took  place  in  1779,  it  was  again  meas- 
ured, but  no  alteration  was  discovered.  But  in  1813,  the  inclina- 
tion was  found  to  have  slightly  increased.  The  staircase  by  which 
we  ascend  is  a  very  rude  one,  quite  impracticable  for  timid  climbers. 
The  view  from  the  top  is  fine  in  the  extreme.  I  was  well  paid  for 
the  fatigue  of  going  up.     Bologna  appears  to  very  good  advantage 


254  DR.  Johnson's  courtship. 

in  the  foreground,  and  on  all  sides  the  distant  view  is  charming. 
Here,  as  on  a  map,  we  can  see  the  Apennines,  the  cities  of  Ferrara, 
Padua,  Verona,  Modena,  and  Iraola,  with  nameless  villages  of  less 
note. 

The  other  tower  no  one  is  permitted  to  ascend.  Its  inclination 
before  it  was  decapitated  was  eight  feet  to  the  east  and  three  to 
the  south. 

The  day  after  my  arrival  in  Bologna,  was  a  holiday.  The  city 
was  full  of  people  from  the  country.  One  would  have  thought,  to 
witness  the  appearance  of  its  streets,  that  all  the  people  for  miles 
around  had  flocked  together  here.  •It  was  with  the  utmost  difll- 
culty  that  one  could  walk  the  streets  at  all,  in  the  middle  of  the 
day.  "  And  what  was  the  occasion  of  this  holiday  ?"  you  inquire. 
It  was  the  birth-day  of  a  favorite  Bolognese  saint.  They  told  me 
his  name,  but  I  forggt  it.  On  this  occasion  the  effigy  of  the  saint 
is  borne  on  a  litter,  and  thousands  of  soldiers  and  private  citizens 
march  in  procession  through  the  city,  with  music.  These  proces- 
sions are  common  all  over  Italy.  I  saw  them  in  Verona,  Florence, 
Rome,  and  Naples.  In  the  latter  city — I  don't  know  how  it  is  in 
other  provinces — the  people  are  all  required  to  close  their  places 
of  business  on  these  ffete  days  ;  and  if  any  one  chooses  to  disobey 
the  order,  ho  is  liable  to  a  heavy  fine  and  imprisonment. 


DR.  JOHNSON'S  COURTSHIP. 

When  Dr.  Johnson  courted  Mrs.  Potter,  whom  he  afterwards 
married,  he  told  her  that  he  was  descended  from  untitled  ances- 
tors, that  he  had  no  money,  and  tbat  he  once  had  an  uncle 
hung.  The  lady,  as  the  story  goes,  by  way  of  reducing  herself  to 
the  doctor's  level,  so  that  they  could  be  married,  replied  that  she 
had  no  more  money  than  himself,  and  that,  though  she  did  not 
recollect  ever  having  a  relation  hung,  she  knew  of  several  who  de- 
served hanging. 


THE    FORTUNE-TELLER. 


255 


THE  FORTUNE-TELLER. 

We  have  people  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  I  believe,  who  profess 
to  tell  fortunes.  But  they  are  cheats,  the  whole  of  them.  No 
one  can  look  into  futurity,  and  foretell  what  is  the  destiny  of 
an  individual.  It  is  true,  these  professed  fortune-tellers,  after  a  long 
practice,  can  make  very  shrewd  guesses  ;  and  it  is  the  facility  with 
which  they  guess  what  is  going  to  happen,  that  frequently  gives 
them  the  reputation  they  have. 

There  was  an  old  woman  in  our  neighborhood,  when  I  was  a 
little  boy,  who  did  now  and  then  an  odd  job  at  fortune-telling,  and 
oh  how  she  imposed  upon  the  credulity  of  the  little  folks  in  that 
region.  I  never  had  my  fortune  told  by  the  old  woman.  Not 
that  I  had  no  mind  to  hear  what  she  would  say  about  my  future 
fortune,  for,  to  tell  the  honest  truth,  I  sometimes  had  a  very  strong 
desire  to  know  whether  I  was  going  to  make  a  great  man  or  not. 
But  my  parents  would  not  allow  me  to  consult  the  fortune-teller. 
They  did  not  want  to  encourage  such  a  trade  as  hei*s,  because  they 
thought  it  was  not  only  foolish  but  wicked. 

My  sister,  however,  once  went  to  the  fortune-teller's  house,  and 
had  her  fortune  told.     Nobody  knew  she  was  going.     If  my  pa- 


256  THE  FORTUNE-TELLER. 

rents  had  known  her  intention,  they  would  have  prevented  the 
visit.  But  Elizabeth  kept  her  plan  a  secret.  Through  some  means 
or  other,  she  got  a  quarter  of  a  dollar,  the  price  this  old  woman 
charged  for  diving  into  the  future,  and  off  she  went. 

It  was  a  long  time  after  my  sister's  visit,  that  she  revealed  her 
secret ;  and  the  way  she  came  to  do  it  was  this  :  Molly  Dolbeare's 
hut  was  only  about  -a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  my  father's  ;  and  one 
day,  when  Elizabeth  and  I  were  passing  the  house  in  company,  on 
our  way  to  the  huckleberry  woods,  the  old  woman  called  to  us,  and 
we  stopped. 

"  Well,  Libby,"  said  Mrs.  Dolbeare,  "  do  you  want  your  fortune 
told  again  ?" 

My  sister  thanked  her,  and  shook  her  head,  at  the  same  time 
blushing  deepl}^  while  the  old  fortune-teller  laughed  as  if  she 
knew  a  capital  joke. 

We  passed  on.  "  What  does  all  this  mean,  sister  ?"  I  inquired. 
"Have  you  really  had  your  fortune  told  by  that  bad  woman  ?" 

"  Do  you  think  Molly  is  a  bad  woman  ?"  my  sister  asked. 
"  She  never  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  bad  woman,  that  is,  not  very 
bad." 

"  I  don't  know  how  that  is,  dear,"  I  replied,  "  but  T  do  know 
that  mother  thinks  it  is  wrong  to  tell  fortunes,  and  wrong  to  have 
them  told.  But  let  me  know  all  about  it.  You  have  been  there, 
I  see  that  plainly  enough,  and  you  have  had  your  fortune  told,  I 
fear.     What  would  mother  say,  if  she  should  hear  of  it  ?" 

Elizabeth  could  not  conceal  the  fault  she  had  committed.  She 
told  me  the  whole  story,  and  I'll  tell  it  to  you,  young  reader.  It 
may  prove  of  service  to  you  in  a  w  ay  you  do  not  dream  of. 

"  Well,  Molly,"  said  my  sister  to  the  old  woman,  as  she  ap- 
proached her  lonely  little  house,  and  saw  her  standing  under  a  tree 
near  the  door,  "  well,  Molly,  I'm  going  to  have  my  fortune  told." 

"  You  are,  eh  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  am,  and  the  quicker  you  do  it,  the  better.  Here's  the 
money."     And  she  threw  down  the  quarter  of  a  dollar. 

Molly  looked  at  her  young  customer  with  something  like  a  leer 
on  her  countenance.  She  knew  us  all  as  well,  almost,  as  our  own 
mother  did.     She  had  often  been  at  our  house  to  wash  and  iron, 


THE   FORTUNE-TELLEB.  257 

and  sometimes — if  tlie  truth  must  be  told — to  beg  for  cold  meat. 
She  was  very  deliberate  in  all  her  movements,  so  much  so,  that 
Eh'zabeth  began  to  get  impatient.  By-and-bye,  however,  the  old 
lady,  after  carefully  looking  over  some  mysterious  signs  and  figures, 
took  her  customer's  hand,  and  looked  at  the  palm  of  it  for  some 
minutes.  At  last  she  seemed  to  have  got  together  all  the  morsels 
of  wisdom  that  were  swimming  about  in  her  brain  touching  my 
sister  ;  and  she  spoke  very  much  as  follows  : 

"  I  see,  my  young  miss,  that  you  are  going  to  have  a  strange 
fortune,  a  very  strange  fortune. 

"  Good,  I  hope  ;  isn't  it,  Molly  ?" 

"  A  very  strange  fortune,  indeed.  Before  I  tell  you  what  is  in 
the  future,  let  me  inform  you  a  little  about  the  past.  Your  mother 
doesn't  like  fortune-tellers.  The  stars  tell  me  that.  Well,  when 
you  asked  her  a  year  ago  or  more,  if  you  might  come  here  and 
let  me  tell  you  what  was  going  to  happen  to  you,  she  said  you 
must  not  come.  And  now,  this  morning,  you  have  run  away, 
without  your  mother's  consent.  Yes,  you  have.  You  needn't 
color  up  so.  I  could  tell  this,  without  all  these  blushes.  Do  you 
think  I  read  the  stars  for  nothing  ?  Now,  you  must  know  what  is 
going  to  happen  to  you.  By  all  means  you  must  have  your  for- 
tune told.  You'll  not  mind  your  parents.  You'll  grow  up  a  dis- 
obedient girl.  Of  course,  you  will  do  just  what  you  please,  and 
when  you  please,  and  go  anywhere,  at  any  time,  whether  your  pa- 
rents like  it  or  not.  Well,  one  of  these  days,  you'll  get  to  be  a  sort 
of  heathen  girl,  and  it  would  be  a  great  mercy  if  a  missionary 
should  come  some  of  these  days,  to  try  and  make  a  decent  Chris- 
tian woman  of  you.  As  for  a  husband,  you  will  never  have  one.  No- 
body wants  a  woman  who  has  not  been  well  brought  up  ;  and  you 
certainly  will  hardly  be  brought  up  at  all,  at  this  rate.  You'll  conie 
up  yourself.  You  will  become  a  thief,  and  one  of  these  dark  nights, 
you'll  wake  up,  and  find  yourself  on  a  hard  bed  in  prison,  and" — 

But  Elizabeth  had  got  fortune  enough  by  this  time,  and  she 
started  and  ran  home,  crying  all  the  way.  The  fortune-teller  had 
read  her  a  charming  lesson — quite  different  from  the  one  she  ex- 
pected— and  it  did  her  a  world  of  good.  She  told  me  she  never 
meant  to  disobey  her  parents  again  ;  and  I  think  she  never  did. 


258  A   COLD   WATER   BALLAD. 


A  COLD  WATER  BALLAD. 


BT    JOHN    G.    SAXE. 


There  lived  an  honest  fisherman, 
I  knew  him  passing  well ; 

He  dwelt  hard  by  a  little  pond, 
Within  a  little  dell. 

A  grave  and  quiet  man  was  he. 
Who  loved  his  hook  and  rod; 

So  even  ran  his  lines  of  life, 
His  neighbors  thought  it  odd. 

For  science  and  for  books,  he  said 

He  never  had  a  wish; 
No  school  to  him  was  worth  a  fig. 

Except  a  ^'school  offish.'^ 

This  single-minded  fisherman 

A  double  calling  had  : 
To  tend  his  flocks  in  winter  time, 

In  summer,  fish  for  shad. 

In  short,  this  honest  fisherman 

All  other  toils  forsook. 
And  though  no  vagrant  man  was  he. 

He  lived  by  "  hook  and  crook.'''' 

All  day  that  fisherman  would  sit 

Upon  an  ancient  log, 
And  gaze  upon  the  water,  like 

Some  sedentary  frog. 

A  cunning  fisherman  was  he. 
His  angles  were  all  right ; 

And  when  he  scratched  his  aged  poll^ 
You'd  know  he'd  got  a  bite. 

To  charm  the  fish  he  never  spoke. 
And,  though  his  voice  was  fine, 

He  found  the  most  convenient  way 
Was  just  to  "  drop  a  line" 


A  GOOD   GUN.  259 


And  many. a  "gudgeon"  of  the  pond, 

If  made  to  speak  to-day, 
Would  own  with  grief,  this  angler  had 

A  mighty  "  taking  way.^"* 

One  day,  while  fishing  on  the  log, 
He  mourned  his  want  of  luck; 

"When  suddenly  he  felt  a  bite, 
And  jerking — caught  a  "  duckP 

Alas  !  that  day  the  fisherman 

Had  taken  too  much  grog. 
And  being  but  a  landsman,  too, 

He  couldn't  ^^keep  the  log^ 

In  vain  he  strove  with  all  his  might, 
And  tried  to  gain  the  shore  ; 

Down,  down  he  went  to  feed  the  fish 
He'd  baited  oft  before ! 

The  moral  of  this  mournful  tale 

To  all  is  plain  and  clear : 
A  single  "  drop  too  much"  of  rum, 

May  make  a  watery  bier. 

And  he  who  will  not  "  sign  the  pledge," 

And  keep  the  promise  fast, 
May  be,  in  spite  of  fate,  a  stiff 

Cold-  Water  man  at  last ! 


A  GOOD  GUK 

'       A  COUNTRY  farmer  told  a  friend  of  his,  who  had  come  from 

'  town  for  a  few  days'  shooting,  that  he  once  had  an  excellent  gun  ; 

:  that  it  went  off  immediately  upon  a  thief  coming  into  the  house, 

i  although  not  charged. 

I      "  How  is  that  ?"  asked  his  friend. 

^      "  Why,"  replied  the  farmer,  "  because  the  thief  carried  it  off ;  and 

j  what  was  worse,  before  I  bad  time  to  charge  it." 


260 


SOMETHING  ABOUT   HELPIN'G   OTHERS. 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  HELPUSTG  OTHERS. 


BY  J.   P.    m'CORD. 


^^RE  you  not  turning  from  your  road,  sir  ?"  said  I  one 
\C  day  to  a  gentleman  in  whose  carriage  I  was  seated. 
"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  shall  be  helping  you  on 
your  way." 
There  was  not  the  least  doubt  of  that.  I  had  no  objec- 
tion in  the  world,  either,  to  all  the  help  forward  which  he 
was  disposed  to  render  me.  My  condition  was  such,  that  a  little 
favor  of  that  kind  would  be  as  welcome  and  refreshing  as  a  cup  of 
cold  water  to  the  thirsty  traveler. 

When  he  fell  in  with  me,  I  was  in  the  borders  of  a  prosperous 
village,  proceeding  to  a  dear  spot  some  miles  in  the  country.  He 
showed  so  much  good-nature  in  his  countenance — he  turned  back 
upon  me  so  kind  a  regard,  even  after  he  had  passed  mc — that  I 
had  no  hesitation  in  making  a  sign  for  him  to  stop  and  take  me  in. 
I  wish  there  were  more  such  as  I  found  him  to  be.  He  was  not 
of  the  sort  whose  smiles  are  a  pleasant  curl  of  the  lip,  and  nothing 
more — whose  acts  of  kindness  are  apt  to  be  accompanied  with 
feelings  and  tokens  of  reluctance.  He  was  like  an  ojien  book, 
whose  meaning  lies  clear  on  its  pages,  and  fi-om  which  all  receive 
the  same  impressions. 

Is  it  possible  that  I  formed  too  favorable  an  opinion  of  him  ? 
May  his  good-nature,  after  all,  have  been  a  mere  outside  show  ?  I 
think  not ;  and  the  reason  for  my  conclusion  you  have  ali-eady  had 
a  hint  of.  When  we  came  to  the  place  where,  of  course,  I  expected 
to  be  deposited,  instead  of  keeping  straight  ahead  on  his  own 
course,  he  diverged  to  the  road  proper  for  me  to  take.  Regard- 
ing it  as  the  simple  result  of  inattention,  I  spoke  out  and  told  him 
what  he  had  done.     "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  but  I  shall  be  helping  you 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  HELPING    OTHERS.  261 

on  your  way."     And  on  he  drove,  making  a  wide  digression  from 
his  proper  course,  for  nothing  else  than  my  accommodation. 

I  have  often  thought  of  that  man  since.  I  hope  I  shall  think 
of  him  gratefully,  for  a  long  while  to  come.  The  principle  of  his 
conduct  struck  me  as  peculiar,  and  worthy  of  imitation.  Some  are 
ready  enough  to  do  a  favor  which  costs  them  nothing,  or  which 
they  don't  have  to  go  out  of  their  way  for.  Others,  again,  will  do 
you  a  favor  if  they  expect  to  get  paid  for  it,  some  way  or  other. 
How  few,  indeed,  are  free  from  the  secret  influence  of  selfishness ! 
How  few  bestow  favors  when  they  have  not  the  least  expectation 
of  being  repaid  !  How  few  will  put  themselves  to  trouble  or  in- 
convenience, for  the  sake  of  helping  or  accommodating  others  ! 

Is  this  too  much  to  expect  of  people  ?  Suppose  you  were  in 
some  sad  case  yourself;  would  you  not  look  to  your  fellow-crea- 
tures for  relief  ?  would  you  not  feel  that  they  ought  to  incur  trouble 
and  expense  on  your  behalf?  When  others,  then,  stand  in  need 
of  assistance  of  any  sort,  may  they  not  properly  expect  as  much  of 
you  ?  Remember  the  law — "  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men 
should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them." 

Why  not  carry  about  with  you  a  little  of  the  spirit  enjoined  in 
this  precept  ?     There  are  no  lack  of  occasions  to  act  it  out. 

See  that  poor  old  lame  man,  with  a  heavy  basket  on  his  arm. 
Just  carry  it  for  him  a  while.  Though  it  may  be  rather  heavy  for 
you,  never  mind.  You  will  be  helping  him  along,  for  which  he 
will  thank  you  heartily. 

You  have  some  money  in  your  pocket,  and  you  know  how  you 
want  to  spend  it.  But,  after  all,  can't  you  spare  a  part  of  it  for 
that  ragged  boy  ?     You  will  be  doing  him  a  kindness. 

One  of  your  acquaintances  is  sick.  Go  and  minister  to  his  wants, 
or  perform  any  service  for  him  which  his  circumstances  may  re- 
quire. Don't  stop  to  consider  to  how  much  inconvenience  you  may 
put  yourself,  but  how  useful  you  may  be  to  him. 

In  all  other  cases  give  the  proper  aid  or  comfort.  Think  less 
of  your  own  expense,  trouble,  or  inconvenience,  than  of  the  good 
you  may  do,  and  the  reward  you  will  secure. 


262 


THE   PRETENDED   MIRACLE, 


THE  PRETENDED  MIRACLE. 


HERE  is  a  church  at  Neisse,  in  Silesia,  owned  by 
the  Jesuits,  concerning  wliich  the  following  anec- 
dote is  told  on  the  authority  of  a  Prussian  lieu- 
tenant-colonel ; 
The  King  of  Prussia  had  ordered  the  Jesuits  to  retire 
into  the  country  to  instruct  the  young.  The  church  in 
their  absence  was  to  be  occupied  as  a  magazine  of  pro- 
visions for  the  soldiers,  but  great  care  was  taken  of  the  high  altar 
of  the  church,  on  account  of  the  beauty  of  its  construction.  A  ru- 
mor was  soon  spread  abroad,  that  a  bright  light  illuminated  the 
high  altar  every  night,  and  throngs  gathered  round  the  church. 
At  last  the  commandant  of  the  fort  went  himself,  when  he  found, 
to  his  astonishment,  that  the  whole  church  was  so  illuminated  that 
every  part  of  it  might  be  plainly  seen  through  the  windows.  The 
commandant  immediately  ordered  the  key  to  be  brought,  but  as 
soon  as  he  set  his  foot  in  the  church,  it  was  once  more  obscured  in 
profound  darkness.  Not  the  least  trace  of  light  could  be  seen. 
Lanterns  were  procured,  but  after  the  strictest  search  nothing  was 
found  to  clear  up  the  mystery.  The  commandant  left  the  church, 
when  immediately  the  high  altar  appeared  covered  with  a  blaze  of 
light.  The  following  night  sentinels  were  placed  in  the  church, 
but  the  edifice  remained  in  darkness,  and  no  light  was  observed 
from  within  or  without.  The  sentinels  were  discontinued,  and  once 
more  the  high  altar  and  the  whole  church  were  illuminated.  The 
commandant  issued  a  proclamation,  offering  a  reward  to  any  per- 
son who  could  unravel  the  mystery.  For  two  days  no  one  claimed 
the  reward  :  on  the  third,  a  common  soldier  belonging  to  the  for- 
tress, requested  a  private  audience  with  the  commandant.  He 
then  explained  to  him   that  he  was  occasionally  employed  by  an 


263 

optician  to  put  frames  to  mirrors  and  burning-glasses.  One  even- 
ing, when  at  work  at  a  large  concave  glass,  the  glass  happened  to 
be  so  placed  as  to  throw  a  light  into  the  church.  This  was  the 
effect  of  accident,  but  finding  the  public  curiosity  excited,  he  im- 
proved the  circumstance,  and  often  threw  the  light  from  an  attic 
window  full  upon  the  high  altar.  When  sentinels  were  placed  in 
the  church,  he  discontinued  his  frolic,  lest  he  should  be  discovered, 
but  resumed  it  when  the  sentinels  were  taken  away.  The  com- 
mandant gave  the  promised  reward  to  the  soldier,  and  in  a  little 
time  the  explanation  was  made  public. 


NAPOLEON'S  HEAET. 

A  GREAT  deal  has  been  said  about  the  heart  as  well  as  the  head 
of  Napoleon  ;  but  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  the  following 
anecdote  until  quite  recently  :  When  Napoleon  died  at  St.  Helena, 
it  is  well  known  that  his  heart  was  extracted,  with  the  design  of 
being  preserved.  The  British  physician  who  had  charge  of  that 
wondrous  organ,  had  deposited  it  in  a  silv^er  basin,  among  water, 
and  retired  to  rest,  leaving  two  tapers  burning  beside  it  in  his 
chamber.  He  often  confesses  to  his  friends,  while  narrating  the 
particulars,  that  he  felt  nervously  anxious  as  the  custodier  of  such 
a  deposit,  and  though  he  reclined,  he  did  not  sleep.  While  lying 
awake,  he  heard,  during  the  silence  of  the  night,  first  a  rustling 
noise,  then  a  plunge  among  the  water  in  the  basin,  and  the  sound 
of  an  object  falling  with  a  rebound  on  the  floor — all  occurring 
with  the  quickness  of  thought.  He  sprang  from  his  bed,  and 
the  cause  of  the  intrusion  of  his  repose  was  soon  explained.  It 
was  an  enormous  rat,  dragging  the  heart  of  Napoleon  to  his  hole. 
A  few  moments  more,  and  that  which  before  had  been  too  vast 
in  its  ambition  to  be  satisfied  with  the  sovereignty  of  continental 
Europe,  would  have  been  found  even  in  a  more  degraded  posi- 
tion than  the  dust  of  Caesar  stopping  a  beer  barrel — it  would  hav^ 
been  devoured  as  the  supper  of  a  rat. 


264  THE  missionary's  tour. 

THE  MISSIONAEY'S  TOUR 


^JU.^^^''^^^^ 


LEASE  tell  US  a  story,  Uncle  George,"  exclaimed  a  group 
of  little  ones  to  their  favorite  uncle,  one  pleasant  after- 
noon. The  good-natured  gentleman  complimented  the 
children  on  their  quiet  demeanor  while  he  had  been  reading, 

P  and  acceded  to  their  request  The  story  he  told  them  was 
in  substance  as  follows  : 

"  A  missionary  was  stationed  at  a  town  on  the  coast  of  Burmah, 
and  left  the  mission  in  order  to  visit  some  heathen  inhabiting  the 
Sulong  islands.  Of  the  second  day's  journey  in  their  boat,  the 
missionary  said  in  his  journal, '  A  beautiful  day  amid  lovely  scenery. 
Yesterday  we  had  mud  flats,  and  low,  muddy,  mangrove  shores, 
washed  by  dingy  water.  To-day  we  sail  in  clear  water,  with  nu- 
merous bold,  green  islets  near  at  hand,  and  several  large  mountain- 
ous islands  looming  grandly  in  the  distance.  And  the  corals  I 
Such  a  submarine  garden  of  stone- wrought  shrubs  and  flowers  I 
never  saw  before.  We  have  left  behind  us  all  permanent  abodes 
of  men,  the  rovers  among  these  islands  being  as  unsettled  as  sea- 
fowl — discovered  none  of  them  to  day.'  How  should  you  like  to 
spend  such  a  day,  Charles  ?" 

"  Oh,"  replied  Charles,  *'  I  should  prefer  it  to  doing  anything 
else,  only  I  should  wish  to  stop  and  obtain  some  corajs  for  my 
cabinet."  ' 

"  But,"  asked  thoughtful  James,  "  the  missionary  was  not  in 
search  of  pleasure  merely  ;  would  he  not  rather  meet  the  heathen, 
that  he  might  do  them  good  ?" 

"  Even  so,"  resumed  Uncle  George,  "  but  for  several  days  they 
rowed  from  one  sand-beach  to  another  in  vain.  They  were  prob- 
ably at  the  more  distant  islands,  seeking  for  sea-slugs  and  shell-fish. 
At  one  place  the  missionary  saw  a  beautiful  w^aterfall  descending 
perpendicularly  fifty  feet,  down  the  precipitous  bank  of  an  island 
into  the  sea.     At  last,  one  night,  as  they  drew  near  a  small  island, 


THE  missionary's  TOUR.  265 

they  heard  the  sound  of  dogs  barking,  and  shrill  human  voices  on 
the  shore.  They  had  now  found  a  party  of  Salongs,  but  the  de- 
graded and  ignorant  people  were  afraid  of  them.  The  women 
flung  their  infants  on  their  backs,  and  prepared  for  flight.  But  at 
lagt  their  fears  were  quelled,  and  the  missionary  spent  the  night 
with  them.  About  daylight,  some  boats  left  them  for  a  fishing  ex- 
cursion, and  returned  with  a  large  turtle,  which  formed  a  part  of 
their  food." 

"  Were  their  boats  like  ours,  uncle  ?" 

"No,  they  were  vastly  different.  They  select  a  tree,  and  hollow 
out  its  trunk,  spreading  it  open  in  the  centre  by  means  of  fire  ;  this 
makes  a  kind  of  canoe  about  three  to  five  fathoms  in  length. 
Placing  bamboo  splints  along  the  sides,  they  insert,  one  above  an- 
other, the  long,  pithy  leaf-stalks  of  a  palmy  plant,  by  which  the 
depth  is  increased  a  few  feet.  Their  only  tools  are  an  adze,  a 
cleaver,  and  an  auger.  Their  sail  is  very  large  for  such  a  small, 
weak  boat,  and  is  made  by  sewing  long  palm  leaves  together  edge- 
wise. They  twist  their  ropes  from  a  species  of  ratan,  and  they  are 
very  strong.  These  boats  being  very  light  and  well-modeled  for 
speed,  will  compete  with  any  in  swiftness.  Unlike  the  Chinese 
boatmen,  the  Salongs  never  live  in  their  boats,  but  erect  temporary 
sheds  upon  the  beaches,  made  of  poles,  and  thatch  them  with  palm 
leaves,  with  which  leaves  they  also  cover  their  boats.  Palm  leaf 
mats  form  an  excellent  defence  against  both  sun  and  rain." 

"  How  I  should  have  liked  a  place  in  the  missionary's  boat,"  said 
Charles,  "  I  could  have  seen  so  many  strange  and  beautiful  sights." 

"  The  party  met  with  one  adventure  you  would  not  have  liked. 
Late  one  night  a  tiger  visited  them,  and  they  sought  eagerly  for 
their  weapons,  but  the  loud  shouts  of  the  coolies,  or  native  boat- 
men, frightened  him  away.  Then  the  natives  were  part  of  the 
time  intoxicated,  and  once  two  women,  who  were  sisters,  fought 
with  each  other.  Unacquainted  with  their  language,  the  mission- 
ary could  tell  them  but  little  of  God's  word.  But  he  enjoyed,  him- 
self, an  excellent'  opportunity  of  beholding  the  marvelous  works  of 
the  Deity.  On  one  island  a  sharp  promontory  juts  out,  the  base 
of  which  is  penetrated  by  numerous  caverns.  Into  these  the  sea 
continually  poured  a  heavy  swell,  which  roared   through  the  dark 

VOL.  IV.  12  DB 


A  RIDE   ON  THE   BACK   OF   A   HYENA. 


vaults,  littering  music  befitting  the  scene,  as  they  gazed  up  the 
dizzy  steep  from  which  sea-birds,  perched  mid- way,  looked  down 
unconcerned  upon  them.  The  missionary  went  with  the  Salongs 
to  see  them  gather  turbos^  a  species  of  large,  spiral,  shell-fish,  which 
when  boiled  and  smoked  is  a  saleable  article  in  the  Chinese  mar- 
ket. Five  females  rowed  the  boat  in  which  he  went,  while  one  man 
steered,  and  when  the  sunken  rocks  to  which  the  fish  clung  were 
reached,  and  their  boat  anchored,  those  five  young  girls  plunged 
into  the  water,  and  swam,  diving  after  the  shells  like  so  many  mer- 
maids. But  I  must  cease  my  long  account  now,  and  leave  you  to 
rejoice  that  you  dwell  in  a  Christian  land  ;  for  however  you  might 
like  to  see  these  strange  people  and  far-off  places,  there  is,  after  all, 
no  place  like  your  own  happy  home."  j.  h.  hanaford. 


A  KIDE  ON  THE  BACK  OF  A  HYENA. 

Dr.  Sparman  tells  a  curious  story  of  a  hyena,  which  was  told  him 
at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  One  night  the  soldiers  had  a  feast  near 
the  Cape,  when  one  of  them  who  was  a  trumpeter  drank  so  much 
that  he  could  not  stand  up.  His  companions,  not  wanting  him  in 
the  room,  carried  him  out  of  doors  and  laid  him  down  beside  the 
house  to  get  cool  and  sober.  The  trumpeter  laid  there  and  went  to 
sleep,  when  a  hyena  came  along,  and  thinking  liim  dead,  began  to 
carry  him  away,  so  as  to  make  a  meal  of  him  undisturbed.  It  was 
some  time  before  the  man  awoke  so  as  to  know  the  danger  of  his 
situation.  When  he  did  so,  he  found  himself  on  the  back  of  a 
hyena,  which  was  making  off  toward  the  mountain  with  him  as  fast 
as  possible.  Being  horror-struck  at  finding  himself  in  the  power 
of  the  ferocious  beast,  his  fear  brought  him  to  his  senses,  and  seiz- 
ing his  trumpet,  which  hung  around  his  neck,  he  sounded  an  alarm. 
The  beast,  thinking  he  had  only  a  dead  man,  was  as  much  fright- 
ened at  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  as  the  man  was  at  his  situation  ; 
so,  dropping  his  prey,  they  scampered  away  from  each  other  as 
fast  as  possible.  It  is  not  probable  that  any  other  man  but  the 
ti'umpeter  would  have  escaped  as  easily. 


PORTRAIT    OF   GENERAL   CAVAIGNAa 


GENERAL  EUGENE  CAVAIGNAC. 


269 


.GENERAL  EUGENE   CAYAIGNAC. 


^^^^r^^s^ 


|o  not  suppose,  reader,  that  because  I  now  and  then 
stumble  upon  a  military  character,  and  give  you 
a  slight  sketch  of  his  life  and  career,  I  have  a 
%^\  vast  amount  of  revei-ence  for  military  heroes,  or  that  I 
1  Jh^'      consider  the  achievements  of  such  men  necessarily  as  a 

^  ">  great  benefit  to  mankind.  I  have  no  very  ardent  love 
for  the  trade  of  war.  Either  because  I  am  a  coward,  or  for  some 
other  reason,  I  always  thought  I  should  make  a  poor  fist  at  fight- 
ing. I  should  dislike  to  be  shot.  It  never  seemed  to  me  that  I 
should  ever  get  so  used  to  having  bullet-holes  made  in  difierent 
parts  of  my  body,  that  I  should  really  enjoy  it.  Then  I  should  not 
much  like  to  shoot  another  man,  unless  it  was  very  carefully,  so 
that  the  shot  would  not  hurt  him.  I  verily  believe  that  if  I  should 
by  any  chance  persuade  myself  that  I  had  killed  a  man,  I  should 
sleep  badly  nights. 

Nevei'theless,  there  must  be  military  heroes,  I  suppose,  and  so 
their  deeds  must  be  recorded,  and  so,  too,  there  must  be  people  to 
record  them.  General  Cavaignac  is  such  a  hero.  Therefore  his 
deeds  must  be  recorded. 

This  man  is  an  illustration  among  many  which  could  be  pre- 
sented, of  the  way  men  go  suddenly  up  on  the  wheel  of  fortune  in 
France,  and  then  go  suddenly  down  again.  General  Cavaignac 
had  once  almost  imperial  power  in  France.  Though  he  had  not 
the  name,  he  was  clothed  with  the  authority  of  dictator,  or  perhaps 
I  should  say  he  assumed  it. 

He  was  born  in  the  year  1802.  He  belonged  to  a  republican 
family.  One  of  his  brothers  was  for  some  time  editor  of  a  liberal 
paper  called  La  Reforme.  Eugene  was  educated  for  a  military 
career.     In  1830,  we  find  him  openly  avowing  revolutionary  prin- 


270         GENERAL  EUGENE  CAVAIGNAC. 

ciples.  While  in  garrison,  one  day,  he  was  asked  by  his  colonel 
if  he  would  obey  orders  to  fire  on  the  populace,  in  case  of  an  insur- 
rection. He  replied  decidedly  and  peremptorily  that  he  would  not. 
In  consequence  of  this  conduct,  he  was  sent  by  the  government  into 
Africa,  where  be  distinguished  himself  in  several  battles,  notwith- 
standing his  political  opinions,  and  he  rose  rapidly  in  his  profession. 
He  performed  great  exploits,  it  would  seem,  in  the  Algerine  war, 
and  had  some  pretty  hard  engagements  with  that  noted  man  Abd- 
el-Kader.  Of  course  he  was  promoted.  In  the  year  1848,  he 
became  governor-general  of  Algeria. 

Stirring  times  came  on  in  France  about  these  days.  Another 
revolution  was  on  hand.  Cavaignac  was  called  for  at  home.  He 
was  vlected  to  the  national  assembly,  and  appointed  general  of 
division.  Afterwards,  he  became  minister  of  war.  On  the  12th 
of  May  he  left  Algiei-s,  and  arrived  in  Paris  just  after  the  disturb- 
ances of  the  15tli  of  that  month.  Then  Cavaignac  attained  the 
hicrhest  round  in   the  ladder  of  fame  that  he  ever  reached.     He 

o 

had  a  force  placed  under  his  absolute  command  sufficient  to  hold 
all  France  in  terror.  He  put  down  the  formidable  riots  that  had 
disturbed  the  capital,  and  then  he  resigned  his  supreme  command. 
His  fellow-citizens,  however,  appointed  him  president  of  the  coun- 
cil, with  power  to  nominate  his  own  ministry. 

It  was  at  length  decided  that  a  president  sliould  be  elected — a 
"  president  of  the  republic" — I  give  my  reader  full  liberty  to  smile 
as  broadly  as  he  pleases  at  the  names  the  French  are  in  the  habit 
of  giving  to  things — and  Cavaignac  was  a  candidate  for  that  oflice. 
Louis  Napoleon,  however,  as  you  well  know,  was  chosen,  and  poor 
Cavaignac  fell.  Napoleon  had  some  five  and  a  half  millions  of 
votes,  according  to  the  returns,  while  Cavaignac  had  but  about  one- 
fifth  as  many.  Then  followed  the  famous  coup  d^etat  of  Napoleon, 
and  Cavaignac  was  sent  to  the  prison  of  Ham,  the  very  place  where 
the  successful  candidate  was  previously  confined.  He  was,  how- 
ever, subsequently  liberated.  But  that  star  had  set,  and  another 
one  had  risen  in  its  place.  The  portrait  from  which  my  engraving 
was  copied,  was  taken  when  his  glory  was  about  departing,  I 
should  judge.  He  looks  in  this  picture,  at  all  events,  as  if  he  were 
not  in  a  very  enviable  state  of  mind. 


CROMWELL   AND   THE   DUKE   OF   SAVOY. 


271 


CROMWELL  AND  THE  DUKE  OF  SAYOY. 


■^^;^A^^t^^ 


EARLY  two  hundred  year 

found  little  or  no  toleration  without  fighting  for 

it,  and  when  all   religious  feeling  in  Europe  was 

rather  fiei'ce,  there  was  a  little  company  of  Protestants 

who  dwelt  together  in   the  valleys  of  Piedmont.     They 


J^"^  were,  probably,  descendants  of  the  old  Waldenses,  and, 
certainly,  very  pious,  quiet,  inoffensive  people.  Their  homes  were 
within  the  territory  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  who  detei-mined  to  con- 
vert them  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  With  this  aim,  he 
sent  preaching  friars  among  them  ;  but  the  friars  did  not  succeed. 
Their  religious  doctrines  and  methods  of  proselytism,  seemed  no- 
wise attractive  to  that  Piedmontese  community.  But  the  duke 
persisted  vehemently,  and  immediately  sent,  instead  of  the  friars, 
six  regiments  of  soldiers,  with  orders  that  the  poor  peasants  must 
be  instantly  converted  or  driven  from  the  country.  Now,  they  felt 
it  quite  impossible  to  be  converted  according  to  the  duke's  orders, 
and  very  dreadful  to  be  driven  from  their  homes  by  a  ferocious 
soldiery.  It  was  mid-winter.  Their  homes  were  among  the  snows 
of  the  Alps.  Removal  seemed  little  less  than  destruction.  Yet 
the  soldiers  were  relentless,  and  perpetrated  a  great  many  hor- 
rible atrocities.  After  many  sufferings  fearful  to  think  of,  those 
of  the  people  who  remained  alive,  found  refuge  in  French  Dau- 
phiny. 

It  was  on  the  third  day  of  the  following  June  that  the  story  of 
this  persecution  was  told  to  Oliver  Cromwell,  then  Lord  Protector 
of  England.  It  is  said,  that  as  he  listened  to  the  story,  he  was 
melted  into  tears  ;  and  tears  from  that  iron  man,  were  of  different 
quality  from  those  which  an  idle  lady  weeps  over  her  lap-dog. 
He  was  about  to  sign  an  important  treaty  with  France.     Now  he 


272  CHANGES   OF    FASHIOIfl". 

refuses  to  sifvn  it,  unless  the  French  Government  will  interfere  with 
the  Duke  of  Savoy,  and  compel  him  to  put  ri^ht  in  place  of  the 
wrong  he  has  done.  He  sends  them  two  thousand  pounds  from  his 
own  purse,  invites  collections  for  them  all  over  England,  and  stands 
stoutly  to  his  purpose,  until  his  point  is  carried,  and  the  converting 
duke  made  to  f*^el  tliat  the  Lord  Protector  of  England  can  protect 
his  poor  brethren  in  Piedmont. 


CHANGES  OF  FASHION. 

In  our  day,  the  fashion  of  different  dresses  turns  a  pretty  short 
corner  sometimes  ;  but  it  does  not  play  quite  as  fantastic  freaks,  I 
think,  as  it  did  some  hundred  years  ago.  It  is  said  that  when  one 
of  the  kings  of  England  appeared  publicly  without  buckles  to  his 
shoes,  a  whole  manufactuiing  district  complained  that  the  means 
of  their  living  would  be  taken  away;  and  again,  when  the  king 
appeared  without  a  wig,  the  manufacturers  of  the  article  petitioned 
him  not  to  ruin  the  trade.  Charles  VII.  of  France,  was  of  low 
stature,  and  had  very  short  legs  ;  he  wore  such  a  dress  as  was  best 
calculated  for  concealing  the  defects  of  his  person.  So  the  fashion 
of  long  garments  was  revived  during  his  reign.  During  the  reign 
of  Louis  XI.  the  next  king  of  France,  a  total  revolution  occurred  in 
the  article  of  dress.  The  ladies,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  wear 
gowns  of  immense  length,  so  that  their  trains  and  immoderately 
long  sleeve-s  swept  the  ground,  now  cut  them  oft'  and  substituted 
other  things  quite  as  ridiculous.  On  their  heads  they  wore  enor- 
mous caps,  surmounted  with  folds  of  silk  or  other  light  materials, 
in  the  form  of  a  turban,  almost  a  yard  in  height.  In  the  reign  of 
Charles  VI.  the  head-dresses  of  the  women  were  so  broad,  being 
two  yards  in  breadth,  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  make  the  doors 
wider  in  order  to  admit  them  ;  whereas,  now  they  were  obliged  to 
make  them  higher.  During  this  period,  men  wore  short  jackets, 
not  reaching  to  the  waist,  and  small  clothes  to  which  they  were 
fastened  by  laces.  They  also  wore  false  shoulders,  to  make  the 
chest  appear  large  and  full,  and  their  hair  was  worn  long. 


A  NOBLE   ACT   AXD   ITS   REWARD. 


273 


A  NOBLE  ACT  AND  ITS  KEWARD. 


igjI-J  T  is  said  of  a  pious  man  of  old,  living"  in  the  East, 
having  three  sons  and  a  large  fortune,  that  he  made 
the  following  proposals  to  his  sons,  when  they  were 
grown  to  manhood  :  "  Go,"  said  he,  "  my  sons,  from 
'^  my  roof  for  one  month,  and  return.  He  that  performs,  dur- 
^  _  1  ing  his  absence,  the  best  and  noblest  deed,  shall  receive  one 
^  half  of  my  estate,  and  the  other  half  shall  be  divided  between 
the  other  two  brothers.  They  went,  and  returned  at  the  stipulated 
time. 

The  eldest  began  the  story  of  his  month's  philanthropy.  "  I 
was  walking  along  the  banks  of  one  of  our  native  streams,  and  I 
heard  the  shrieks  of  a  female.  I  hastened  to  the  spot  from  whence 
the  cry  proceeded,  and,  lo  !  it  was  a  mother  in  the  very  act  of 
leaping  into  the  flood  to  save  her  boy,  an  only  child  of  four  years 
old,  who  had  unfortunately  fallen  in,  and  the  waters  were  choking 
the  avenues  of  life.  Had  the  mother  made  the  desperate  leap, 
they  both  must  have  perished  together.  I  bade  her  desist,  and  I 
plunged  into  the  i-oaiing  torrent.  By  hard  struggling  and  mighty 
eftbrts,  I  saved  the  drowning  child,  and  restored  him  to  the  arms 
of  the  frantic,  but  now  enraptured,  mother." 

"  Thou  hast  indeed  done  nobly,  my  son  ;  the  pen  of  immortality 
shall  record  that  deed,  and  the  mother  shall  cherish  thy  memory 
with  tears  of  gratitude.  My  second  son,  what  hast  thou  to  say  ?" 
"  Father,"  said  he,  "  in  my  journey  I  found  an  old  man  lying  ou 
his  couch,  feeble  and  decrepid  ;  he  could  not  walk  nor  rise  up. 
Two  little  children  were  left  with  him  ;  their  parents  had  gone  to 
a  neighboring  town,  about  ten  miles  distant.  The  old  man  was 
sighing  heavily,  and  the  children  wept  bitterly.  The  bleak  winds 
murmured  through  the  trees ;  the  ground  was  covered  with  snow ; 
the  cold  was  piercing  and  terrible.  '  And  will  your  parents  return 
to-night  V  I  inquired  of  the  lad,  as  he  stirred  up  the  little  fire  on 

VOL.  IV.  12*  DR 


274  A   GOOD   RULE. 


the  hearth,  which  his  flowing  tears  might  have  quenched.  '  They 
have  been  gone  four  days,'  was  the  reply,  '  and  we  are  starving,  and 
can  neither  go  for  food,  nor  for  father  and  mother  I'  I  hurried 
back  to  the  nearest  house  I  had  left,  to  obtain  food  for  these  fam- 
ishing ones,  and  information  of  the  parents.  The  former  I  pro- 
cured ;  but  of  the  latter  I  could  obtain  no  tidings.  I  went  in  search 
of  them,  and,  when  within  a  mile  of  the  village,  I  was  informed, 
to  my  amazement,  that  they  had  been  found  dead,  having  perished 
in  the  snow  !  I  need  only  say,  these  orphans  and  the  more  helpless 
old  man,  are  to  share  in  my  patrimony,   whatever  it  may  be." 

The  father  burst  into  tears,  and  could  only  say,  "  The  youngest 
brother."  The  youngest  son  now  began  :  "  On  my  return  home- 
ward, having  almost  despaired  of  aecomplisliing  my  wishes,  I  found 
a  man,  prostrate  and  bleeding,  on  the  cold  ground.  lie  was  my 
bitter  enemy  !  He  must  have  perished  in  a  few  hours,  had  there 
been  no  assistance.  I  took  him  to  a  hospitable  shelter,  and  he  is 
rapidly  recovering."  "  My  dear  boy,"  said  the  father,  "  to  thee,  to 
thee,  belongs  the  reward  !  Were  it  the  world,  thou  shouldst  have 
it.  Thou  hast  sanctiiit'd  humanity,  and  spread  the  antepast  of 
Heaven.  Thy  brothers  liave  done  well — nobly  ;  but  thou  hast 
acted  God-like  !  Thine  is  the  spirit  of  Heaven  :  half  my  wealth  is 
thine,  and  well  may  I  entrust  it  to  such  a  son." 


A  GOOD  KULE. 

A  MAN  who  is  very  rich  now,  was  very  poor  when  he  was  a  boy. 
When  asked  how  he  got  his  riches,  he  replied,  "  My  father  taught 
me  never  to  play  till  my  work  was  finished,  and  never  to  spend  my 
money  until  I  had  earned  it.  If  I  had  but  an  hour's  work  in  a 
day,  I  must  do  that  the  first  thing,  and  in  an  hour.  And  after 
this  I  was  allowed  to  play  ;  and  tlien  I  could  play  with  much  more 
pleasure  than  if  I  had  the  thought  of  an  unfinished  task  before  my 
mind.  I  early  formed  the  habit  of  doing  everything  in  time,  and 
it  soon  became  perfectly  easy  to  do  so.  It  is  to  this  I  owe  my 
prO;?perity."     Let  every  boy  who  reads  this  go  and  do  likewise. 


GALL   FLIES   AND    NUT   GALLS. 


275 


GALL  FLIES  AND  NUT  GALLS. 

Have  you  ever  noticed  the  ofreat  round  balls  on  some  species  of 
the  oak  ?  No  doubt  you  have,  if  you  are  much  accustomed  to 
ramble  in  the  forest.  Well,  how  do  you  suppose  those  balls  are 
produced  ?  Perhaps,  without  giving  much  thought  to  the  matter, 
you  may  have  regarded  them  as  the  fruit  of  the  tree.  But  such 
is  not  the  case.  The  acorn  is  the  only  legitimate  fruit  wliich  the 
oak  tree  produces.  Those  balls  are  produced  by  a  family  of  little 
insects,  called  gall  flies. 

There  are  a  great  many  species  of  the  gall  fly,  and  though  their 
habits  are  similar,  they  choose  respectively,  very  ditierent  places  for 
their  abode. 

While  traveling  between  Florence  and  Rome,  my  attention  was 
frequently  attracted  to  a  shrub  by  the  roadside,  on  which  grew,  in 
considerable  abundance,  what  appeared  to  be  a  curious  kind  of 
apple.  Anxious  to  satisfy  myself,  however,  in  relation  to  the  mat- 
ter, I  asked  the  driver  of  our  carriage  to  stop,  so  as  to  give  me  an 
opportunity  to  examine  the  shrub.     He  did  so  ;  and  what  was  my 


276  GALL   FLIES   AND   NUT   GALLS. 

surprise  to  find  that  these  numerous  and  beautifully-formed  apples, 
as  they  appeared  at  a  little  distance,  were  nothing  more  or  less  than 
excrescences  (warts,  to  use  a  shorter  word,  but  one  which  does  not 
quite  so  well  convey  my  meaning)  made  by  insects. 

The  insects  which  cause  such  warts  on  different  plants,  are  all 
provided  with  a  curious  instrument,  something  like  a  gimlet.  With 
this  instrument  it  pierces  the  bark  of  the  tree,  and  lays  its  eggs 
there.  The  pieces  of  the  vegetable  flowing  out  through  the  aper- 
tures which  are  thus  opened,  aid  in  forming  the  wart,  which  goes 
by  the  name  of  a  gall.  In  this  gall  the  ^^g  is  enclosed,  which,  in 
due  time,  becomes  a  little  caterpillar.  The  young  insects  find  in 
their  abode  food  necessary  for  their  support.  They  suck  and  gnaw 
the  inside  of  the  gall,  the  outside  of  which  grows  and  becomes 
harder  in  proportion  as  the  centre  part  is  eaten  away. 

In  the  engraving,  you  see  a  common  species 
of  the  gall  fly,  and  three  different  forms  of  the 
caterpillars  of  the  insect. 

Galls  ma}'  be  found  in  every  part  of  a  plant. 
Roots,  branches,  leaves,  and  even  bu<ls,  are  thus 
invaded,  as  the  space  required  in  different  cir- 
cumstances, vajies  greatly.  Some  galls  are  not 
larger  than  the  head  of  a  pin,  others  are  of 
considerable  size.  Some  galls  are  juicy,  and 
others  extremely  hard.  This  variety  seems  de- 
pendent on  the  ])leasure  of  the  insect.  On  the 
same  leaf  one  insect  will  produce  a  gall  of  the 'former,  and  an- 
other that  of  the  latter  kind.  Many  galls  have  a  cavity,  shutting 
up  a  certain  number  of  caterpillars  living  in  society.  Others  have 
many  small  cavities,  between  which  there  are  communications.  In 
some  cases,  more  than  a  hundred  cells  may  be  observed,  each  of 
which  contains  a  single  caterpillar.  Other  species  of  galls  have  but 
a  single  cell,  inhabited  by  a  caterpillar,  which  lives  alone. 

The  majority  of  galls  increase  in  size  very  rapidly.  Those  of  the 
largest  species  grow  in  a  few  days,  and  sometimes  even,  as  it  appears, 
before  the  caterpillar  issues  from  the  egg  ;  so  that  when  it  does  so, 
its  lodging  is  ready  made,  and  requires  no  further  increase.  These 
little  creatures  grow  very  fast,  but  they  remain  in  the  gall  five  or 


GALL   FLIES    AND   NUT   GALLS.  277 


six  months.  Some  pass  into  the  chrysalis  state  in  the  gall,  from 
which  they  escape  in  the  perfect  form,  after  making  a  small  hole 
in  it. 

Galls  present  great  varieties  of  form.  The  most  common  ones 
are  rounded.  Some  have  received,  from  their  color  and  figure, 
the  names  of  certain  fruits  which  thev  resemble.  Some  found  on 
the  oak,  are  called  apple,  gooseberry,  or  pippin  galls.  Some  are 
like  fruits  in  their  spongy  texture.  Among  those  which  are  of  a 
round  form,  some  are  fixed  upon  the  plant,  and  others  only  hold 
there  by  a  short  stem. 

There  is  a  species  of  fibrous  gall  which  is  very  remarkable.  It  is 
as  large  as  an  apple,  and  is  covered  with  long  reddish  threads.  It 
appears  on  the  eglantine,  or  sw^eet  brier,  which  sometimes  bears 
three  or  four  of  these  galls.  The  same  shrub  presents  a  still  rarer 
species.  It  grows  at  the  end  of  its  branches,  where  it  forms  a  mass 
composed  of  a  dozen  little  galls,  of  various  forms.  These  two 
species  owe  their  origin  to  the  .same  insect. 

The  far-famed  apples  of  Sodom,  of  which  you  have  doubtless 
heard,  and  which  are  described  as  beautiful  to  the  eye,  but  crum- 
bling to  bitter  ashes  at  the  slightest  touch,  are  now  well  ascertained 
to  be  the  pioduct  of  one  species  of  the  gall  in-sect.  The  tree  on 
which  these  galls  are  found,  grows  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Dead  Sea. 
It  is  about  six  feet  high,  and  the  galls  attain  the  size,  at  maturity, 
of  a  small  apricot. 

But  the  most  useful  of  all  the  galls,  is  the  nut-gall^  which  is  so 
extensively  used  in  dyeing.  This  valuable  gall  grows  on  a  species 
of  the  oak.  I  have  given  you  an  engraving  of  a  branch  of  the 
oak,  with  the  galls  upon  it.  The  galls  you  will  notice  on  the 
lower  part  of  the  branch.  There  are  two  of  them.  The  tree  grows 
abundantly  yi  Asia  Minor,  Syria,  and  Pei-sia. 

These  galls  have  no  smell,  but  a  bitter  and  astiingent  taste. 
They  are  much  used  in  the  manufacture  of  ink.  They  are  nearly 
round,  and  vary  from  the  size  of  a  pea  to  that  of  a  liazel-nut. 
When  good,  they  are  of  a  black,  or  deep  olive  color.  They  are 
heavy  and  brittle,  and  break  with  a  fiinty  fractul-e.  They  are 
known  in  commerpe  by  the  names  of  white,  green,  and  blue.  The 
white  are  tliose  which  have  not  been  gathered   till   the  insect  has 


278  LmNG  WITHOUT   FOOD. 


made  its  escape  ;  they  are  not  so  heavy  as  the  others,  are  of  a 
lighter  color,  and  do  not  fetch  so  high  a  price.  The  green  and 
blue  galls  are  gathered  before  the  escape  of  the  insect.  They  are 
heavier  and  darker  than  the  former,  and  are  said  to  yield  about 
one-third  more  of  useful  coloring  matter. 


LIVING  WITHOUT  FOOD. 

Animals  support  the  want  of  food  much  longer  than  is  gener- 
ally believed.  A  civet  cat  has  lived  ten  days  without  food,  an 
antelope  twenty,  and  a  very  large  wild  cat  also  twenty.  An  eagle 
has  survived  twenty-two  days,  a  ba<lger  one  month,  and  several 
dogs  thirty-six  days.  In  the  memoirs  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences 
there  is  an  account  of  a  dog,  which  having  been  accidentally  shut 
up  alone  in  a  counting-house,  existed  forty  days  without  any  other 
nourishment  than  the  stuff  of  the  wool  of  a  mattrass,  which  he  had 
torn  to  pieces.  A  crocodile  will  live  two  months  without  food,  a 
scorpion  three,  a  bear  six,  a  chameleon  eight,  and  a  viper  ten.  Val- 
liant  had  a  spider  that  lived  nearly  a  year  without  food,  and  was 
so  far  from  being  weakened,  that  it  immediately  killed  another  large 
spider  equally  vigorous,  but  not  so  hungry,  which  was  put  along 
with  it  The  celebrated  John  Hunter  enclosed  a  toad  between  two 
stone  flower-pots,  and  found  it  as  lively  as  ever  after  fourteen 
months.  Land  tortoises  have  lived  without  food  for  eighteen 
months,  and  a  beetle  has  been  known  to  have  been  kept  in  a  state 
of  perfect  abstinence  for  three  years,  when  it  contrived  to  make  its 
escape.  There  is  also  a  well-authenticated  account  of  two  serpents 
living  in  a  bottle  without  food  for  five  years.  Besides  all  these 
facts,  too,  we  have  a  more  astounding  one,  too,  on  pretty  good  au- 
thority, that  toads  live  for  many  years  shut  up  in  the  heart  of  a 
block  of  marble ;  though  1  give  any  man,  woman,  or  child,  full 
liberty  to  shake  his  or  her  head  for  a  fortnight  at  the  latter  story. 
For  myself,  however,  I  believe  it. 


A   PATCH   OX   BOTH   KNEES. 


279 


A  PATCH  ON  BOTH  KNEES. 


.^.  <^-'<^ 


# 


S^C^tj^'*^'  HERE  is  a  great  deal  of  excellent  truth  suggested  in 
,'■  £o^       the  following  anecdote,  and  the  reflections  which 
^^J     are  appended  to  it.     Read  the  article,  young  friend. 
\^      Don't  say,    when  you    get   through    with   it,   that 
Uncle  Frank  wi-ote  it  on  purpose  to  hit  you  ;  for  nothing 
could  be  farther  from  the  true  state  of  the  case,  inasmuch 
as  Uncle  Frank  did  not  wiite  it  at  all,  and  what  is  more, 
he  does  not  know  who  did  write  it : 

When  I  was  a  boy,  it  was  my  fortune  to  bieathe,  for  a  long 
time,  what  some  writers  term  the  bracing  air  of  poverty.  My 
mother — light  lie  the  turf  upon  the  form  which  once  enclosed  her 
sweet  and  gentle  spirit — was  wdiat  is  called  an  ambitious  woman ; 
for  that  quality  which  overturns  thrones  and  supplants  dynasties, 
finds  a  legitimate  sphere  in  the  humblest  abode  that  the  shadow  of 
poverty  ever  darkened.  The  struggles  between  the  wish  to  keep 
up  appearances  and  the  pinching  gripe  of  necessity,  produced  end- 
less shifts  and  contrivances,  at  which,  if  told,  some  would  smile, 
and  some,  to  whom  they  would  teach  their  own  experience,  would 
sigh.  But  let  me  not  disturb  the  veil  of  oblivion  which  shrouds 
from  profane  eyes  the  hallowed  mysteiies  of  poverty. 

On  one  occasion  it  was  necessary  to  send  me  on  an  errand  to  a 
neighbor  of  better  circumstances  than  ourselves,  and  therefore  it 
was  desirable  that  I  should  be  presented  in  the  best  possible  aspect. 
Great  pains  were  accordingly  taken  to  give  a  smart  appearance  to 
my  patched  and  dila})idated  wardrobe,  and  to  conceal  the  rents  and 
chasms  which  the  envious  tooth  of  time  had  made  in  it ;  and  by 
way  of  throwing  over  my  equipment  a  savor  and  spriidvling  of 
gentility,  my  red  and  toil-hardened  hands  were  enclosed  in  the  un- 
familiar casing  of  a  pair  of  gloves,  which  had  belonged  to  my 
mother  in  days  when  her  years  were  fewer  and  her  heart  was 
lighter. 


280  A  PATCH  ON  BOTH  KXEE3. 


I  sallied  forth  on  my  errand,  and  on  my  way  encountered  a  much 
older  and  bigo^er  boy,  who  evidently  belonged  to  a  family  who  had 
all  our  own  dragging  poverty,  and  none  of  our  uprising  wealth  of 
spirit.  His  rags  fairly  fluttered  in  the  breeze  ;  his  hat  was  con- 
structed upon  the  most  approved  principles  of  ventilation  ;  and  his 
shoes,  from  their  venerable  antiquity,  might  have  been  deemed  a 
pair  of  fossil  shoes — the  very  ones  in  which  Shem  shuffled  into  the 
ark.  He  was  an  impudent  varlet,  with  a  dare-devil  swagger  in  his 
gait,  and  an  "  I'm  as  good  as  you"  leer  in  his  eyes  ;  the  very  whelp 
to  throw  dirt  at  a  well-dressed  horseman  because  he  was  well- 
dressed,  at  a  boy's  ruffles  because  lie  was  clean.  As  soon  as  he 
saw  me,  his  eyes  detected  the  practical  inconsistencies  which  char- 
acterized my  costume,  and  taking  me  by  the  shoulder,  turning  me 
round  with  no  gentle  hand,  and  surveying  me  from  heaU  to  foot,  he 
exclaimed,  with  a  scornful  laugh  of  derision,  "  A  patch  on  both 
knees,  and  gloves  on  I" 

I  still  recall  the  sting  of  wounded  feeling  which  shot  through  me 
at  these  words.  To  parodize  a  celebrated  line  by  the  immortal 
Tuscan, 

"That  day  I  wore  my  gloves  no  more.'* 

But  the  lesson,  so  rudely  enforced,  sank  deep  into  my  mind  ;  and 
in  after-life  I  have  had  frequent  occasion  to  make  a  practical  appli- 
cation of  the  words  of  my  ragged  friend,  when  I  have  observed  the 
ridiculous  inconsistencies  which  so  often  mark  the  conduct  of  man- 
kind. 

When,  for  instance,  I  see  parents  carefully  providing  for  the  or- 
namental education  of  their  children,  furnishing  them  with  teachers 
of  music,  dancing,  and  drawing,  but  giving  no  thought  to  that 
moral  and  religious  training  from  which  the  true  dignity  and  per- 
manent happiness  of  life  can  come ;  never  teaching  them  habits 
of  self-sacritice  and  self-discipline  and  control,  but  rather,  by  ex- 
ample, instructing  them  in  evil-speaking,  in  uncharitableness,  in 
envy,  and  in  falsehood,  I  think  with  a  sigh  of  the  patch  on  both 
knees,  and  gloves  on. 

When  I  see  a  family  in  cold,  selfish  solitude,  not  habitually 
warming  their  house  with  a  glow  of  happy  faces,  but  lavishing 


A  child's  prayer.  281 

that  which  could  furnish  the  hospitality  of  a  whole  year  upon  the 
profusion  of  a  single  night,  I  think  of  the  patch  on  both  knees,  and 

gloves  on. 

When  I  see  a  house  profusely  furnished  with  sumptuous  furni- 
ture, rich  curtains,  and  luxurious  carpets,  but  with  no  books,  or 
none  but  a  few  tawdry  annuals,  I  am  reminded  of  the  patch  on 
both  knees,  and  gloves  on. 

When  I  see  our  public  men  cultivating  exclusively  those  quali- 
ties which  win  a  way  to  office,  and  neglecting  those  which  will 
qualify  them  to  fill  honorably  the  post  to  which  they  aspire,  I 
recall  the  patch  on  both  knees,  and  gloves  on. 

When  I  see  men  sacrificing  peace  of  mind  and  health  of  body  to 
the  insane  pursuit  of  wealth,  living  in  ignorance  of  the  character  of 
the  children  who  are  growing  up  around  them,  cutting  themselves 
ofi"  from  the  highest  and  purest  pleas.ures  of  their  natures,  and 
so  perverting  their  humanity  that  that  which  was  sought  as  a  means 
insensibly  comes  to  be  followed  as  an  end,  I  say  to  myself,  "  A 
patch  on  both  knees,  and  gloves  on." 


A  CHILD'S  PRAYER. 


BY    ALICE    CAREY. 


SwEETEE  than  the  songs  of  thrushes, 
When  the  winds  are  low ; 

Brighter  than  the  ypring-time  blushes, 
Reddening  out  of  snow, 

Were  the  voice  and  cheek  so  fair, 

Of  the  little  girl  at  prayer. 

Like  a  white  lamb  of  the  meadow, 
Climbing  through  the  light; 

Like  a  priestess  in  the  shadow 
Of  the  temple  bright, 

Seemed  she,  saying,  "  Holy  One  ! 

Thine,  and  not  my  will  be  done!" 


282 


THE  editor's  table  TALK. 


THE  EDITOR'S  TABLE  TALK. 


ERE  is  a  letter  from  my  old  fiiend  and  former  class- 
mate,  James    P.   MCord.     It   seems  to  concern 
^  you,  reader,  as  well  as  myself,  and  1  have  a  mind 

to  make  you  acquainted  with  its  contents.     It  is  dated  at 
^     Wairenham,  Pa.  and  is  as  follows  : 


-•^j> 


"  My  Dear  Woodwortii, — Having  had  the  pleasure,  lately,  of 
talkinfr  with  you  at  your  hospitable  table,  a  little  table-talk  seems 
to  come  in  now,  as  a  matter  of  course.  The  puzzle  is,  however, 
where  to  beo;in.  '  Woodside,'  with  its  fine  situation,  its  trees,  its 
pond,  its  views  of  scenery  around,  is  worth  talking  about  for  half 
an  liour  at  least.  Rut  I  have  not  so  much  time  to  spare  for  the 
purpose,  by  a  jug  full.  I  must  say  something  about  several  other 
things.  It  must  therefore  suffice  for  '  Woodside,'  at  present,  to 
remark,  that  if  you  cannot  live  contented  there,  I  don't  know  of 
any  place  wdiere  you  could. 

When  I  saw  you,  I  was  on  my  way,  you  remember,  to  the  scenes 
of  my  childhood  and  youth.  I  always  revisit  those  scenes  with 
pleasure.  Still,  the  pleasure  has  some  alloy  in  it  The  face  of  the 
landscape  is  changed  ;  some  familiar  woods  are  removed  ;  the  trees 
that  I  used  to  love,  and  the  buildings  that  I  used  to  walk  about, 
bear  the  marks  of  increasing  age.  Familiar  faces,  too,  look  older. 
And  some  whom  I  used  to  meet  in  those  scenes,  I  shall  meet  there 
no  more  forever. 

In  every  place,  indeed,  there  is  more  or  less  of  change  every 
year.  There  is  change  in  nature  ;  there  is  change  among  the 
people.  How  many  of  our  little  friends  have  been  removed  since 
the  opening  of  the  present  vear  ?  I  can  tell  you  of  one.  He  was 
long  a  reader  of  the  Cabinet,  and  delighted  in  its  pages.     He  will 


THE   editor's   table   TALK.  283 


read  it  no  more.  I  need  not  mention  his  name  nor  liis  virtues ; 
they  are  recorded  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  loved  liim.  In  other 
places,  too,  you  have  no  doubt  lost  some  of  your  readers,  one  here 
and  another  there.  At  the  opening  of  the  year,  their  prospects 
for  a  long  life  were  as  fair,  periiaps,  as  any  of  their  companions ; 
but,  before  its  close,  they  have  been  cut  down,  like  flowers  by  the 
frost.  Do  not  our  young  friends  who  survive  see  a  lesson  in  this  ? 
and  will  they  not  give  heed  to  that  so  solemn  a  lesson  ? 

With  my  best  wishes  to  them,  and  to  you,  I  must  here  say  adieu. 
Your  friend,  James  P.  M'Cord." 


I  have  almost  a  mind  to  print  the  letter  of  the  little  orphan  girl 
in  Tennessee.  It  is  a  good  letter.  I  was  pleased  with  it  all  the 
way  through.  My  dear  child,  when  I  read  your  story,  I  could 
scarcely  help  shedding  tears.  God  bless  you,  and  all  who,  like  you, 
have  no  earthly  parents.  God  bless  you,  and  deal  gently  and 
kindly  with  you.  Your  path  in  life  may  be  sad  at  the  commence- 
ment ;  but  joy  will  spi-ing  up  by-and-bye.  I  doubt  not.  Your 
heavenly  Father,  if  you  will  trust  in  him,  will  more  than  supply  the 
place  of  the  earthly  one  he  has  taken  from  you.  I,  too,  was  early 
an  orphan.  But  God  taught  me,  in  my  own  experience,  the  blest 
beauty  of  those  words  of  Scripture,  "  When  my  father  and  my 
mother  forsake  me,  then  the  Lord  will  take  me  up."  May  he 
teach  you  and  all  other  little  orphan  g-irls  the  same.  You  do  well 
to  save  your  money  to  buy  books.  You  do  well  to  teach  little 
George,  and  to  read  the  Bible  with  him.  Go  on  m  this  course. 
Look  to  God  for  his  blessing.  Pray  for  a  new  heart,  and  for  grace 
to  help  you  live  the  life  of  a  Christian.  Then  you  will  be  happy 
in  this  world,  and  happy,  by-and-bye,  in  heaven.  Yes,  you  may 
call  me  "  Uncle  Frank."  I  am  not  ashamed  of  such  nieces — the 
more  the  better. 

OUK    NEW    VOLUME. 

It  does  not  follow,  I  suppose,  because  a  boy  or  girl  reads  all  the 
►  stories  in  the  Cabinet,  and  pores  over  all  its  enigmas,  that  he  or  she 
is  familiar  with  what  the  publisher  puts  on  the  cover.  But  I  want 
you,  reader,  to  glance  at  what  has  been  said  about  our  "  Plans  for 


284        THE  editor's  table  talk. 

1854."  You  will  find  them  on  the  second  page  of  the  cover. 
That  page  is  foi-  you  to  read,  as  well  as  your  parents  or  older 
brother  or  sister.  Look  here.  You'll  not  be  ashamed  of  the  Jan- 
uary number,  when  you  show  it  to  your  friends.  Mark  my  word. 
It  contains  the  portrait  of  ''  S.  N."  which  all  the  little  folks  want 
sp  much  to  see.  And  besides,  the  Cabinet  is  going  to  try  to  out- 
shine itself  during  the  year.  Now  what  I  wish  you  to  do  is  just 
about  the  simplest  and  one  of  the  easiest  things  in  the  world. 
Just  get  your  friends  to  take  the  magazine  with  you,  and  send  us 
on  a  club  of  half  a  dozen  or  a  dozen  subscribers.  You  will  see  that 
you  get  your  Cabinet  for  nothing,  when  you  obtain  seven  or  eight 
subscribers,  and  the  rest  of  the  club  pay  only  seventy-five  cents  each. 


NOTICES    OF    NEW    PUBLIC ATIOXS. 

1.  Sparing  to  Spend,  or  the  Loftons  and  the  Pinker  tons,  is  the  title 
of  a  pleasing  and  instructive  story  of  my  friend  T.  S.  Arthur.  I 
need  say  no  more  to  insure  for  it,  among  my  readers,  a  hearty  wel- 
come to  the  fireside.     Published  by  Charles  Scribner. 

2.  The   same   publisher  has    recently    brought   out    The  Little 
Drummer,  a  story  of  filial  afiection.     The  scene  is  laid  in  Russia, 
at  the  time  of  the  French  invasion   under  that  arch  enemy  of  th< 
world  in  general,  Napoleon  Bonaparte.     It  was  originally  writteaj 
in  German,  and  translated  by  Mrs.  Conant.     I  have  not  for  a  long 
time  read  a  story   addressed   especially   to   the   "  young  folks  at 
home,"  which  on  the  whole  pleased  me  so  well.     The  style  of  th( 
book  is  exceedingly  happy ;  the  story  is  admirably  told  ;  the  greatj 
principles  of  our   religion    are  distinctly  and^  beautifully   bi"Ought 
out ;  the  genius  of  war  is  held  up  to  the  reprobation  it  deserves  ;j 
and,  in  contiast,  the  sweet  spirit  of  peace  on  earth  and  good  will  toj 
men  are  ingeniously  displayed  throughout  the  vi^lume.     I  should] 
rejoice  to  hear  that  the  "  Little  Drummer"  had  become  a  universal] 
favorite  with  young  Americans. 

3.  Tip-Top  ;  or,  A  Xoble  Aim,  is  another  of  Mr.  Scribner's  latel 
juvenile  publications.  It  is  written  by  Mrs.  Tuthill,  and  is  a  very, 
clever  story.  But  is  it  not  a  pity  that  this  lady  should  have  se-j 
lected  such  a  title  ?  "  Tip-top  !"  it  does  not  sound  pleasantly.  Is; 
the  fault  in  my  ear  or  in  the  title  2 


THE  editor's  table  TALK.  285 


4.  The  American  Statesman.  This  is  a  little  volume  by  Rev. 
Joseph  Bnnvard,  who  has  long  been  an  acceptable  writer  for  chil- 
dren and  youth.  It  is  occupied  with  illustrations  of  the  life  and 
character  of  Daniel  Webster.  A  very  truthful,  though  condensed 
sketch  of  this  great  statesman's  life.  Webster's  good  points  are 
held  up  for  the  emulation  of  the  young  reader,  while  the  blemishes 
in  his  character — and  he  certainly  had  such — are  wisely  left  in  the 
background.     Published  by  Gould  &  Lincoln. 

5.  Put))am''s  Magazine.  The  older  members  of  the  family 
where  the  Cabinet  is  a  guest,  who  are  in  want  of  a  spirited  original 
magazine  of  a  high  rank,  can,  in  my  humble  judgment,  find  no- 
thing better  in  the  "  wide,  wide  world,"  than  Putnam's  Monthly. 
It  exhibits  all  the  tact  and  skill  of  the  British  magazines,  without 
a  particle  of  the  heaviness  which  is  so  nearly  chronic  with  our  ex- 
cellent neighbor  Johnny  Bull. 

6.  The  Illustrated  Weekly  Record  of  the  JVeiv  Yo?-k  Exhibition 
of  the  Industry  of  all  Nations,  published  by  G.  P.  Putnam  &  Co. 
at  the  Crystal  Palace,  is  a  rare  collection  of  engravings  accurately 
representing  the  most  noteworthy  articles  in  the  great  exhibition, 
with  letter-press  descriptions.  The  admirers  of  art  who  visit  the 
Palace  should  not  fail  to  secure  this  work.  It  is  worth  ten  times 
its  cost. 

7.  The  Grammar  Tree.  "  And  pray  what  kind  of  a  tree  is  that  ? 
I've  heard  of  a  great  many  curious  trees,  first  and  last,  but  none  that 
bore  fruit  in  the  shape  of  grammar."  But  I  have,  reader.  I've  heard 
of  just  such  a  tree  ;  and  what  is  more,  I've  seen  it  too — on  paper. 
Mr.  Charles  C.  Savage,  of  this  city,  has  taken  the  pains  to  present  all 
the  different  parts  of  speech  in  English  grammar,  together  with 
their  relations  to  each  other,  in  the  form  of  a  tree.  It  is  a  curious 
production,  and  as  useful,  I  think,  as  it  is  curious.  It  is  litho- 
graphed, and  colored  like  a  map.  The  student  can  hang  it  up  in 
his  room,  and  have  the  whole  matter  before  him  at  a  glance. 
This  grammar  tree  will  not  do  away  with  the  necessity  of  treatises 
on  this  branch  of  science.  But  it  will  certainly  help  the  student 
vastlv,  and  I  hope  it  will  be  generally  introduced  into  schools  and 
families.  The  chart  will  not  disfigure,  but  rather  ornament,  a 
youth's  study  or  a  school-room.     Published  by  Rufus  Blanchard. 


286 


'     THE   PUZZLEE'S   DRAWER. 

answer  to  riddle  within  a  charade. 

Man-date. 
Answered  by  W.  S.  Foster,  of  Verona.  N.  Y.  who  must  be  .1  pretty 
keen  boy,  I  fancy,  as  he   is  the  only  one  who  has,  to  my  knowledge, 
cracked  this  nut. 

ANSWER    to    charade    NO.    IV. 

Mad-hid. 
Solved  by  John  C.  Coulter,  of  Washington,  D.  C.  who  thinks  as  I 
do,  that  this  was  a  capital  knot  for  the  little  folks  to  untie. 


answer  to  anagrams  of  scripture  names. 

1.  Chedorlaomer.  3.  Macedonia. 

2.  Mehodachbaladan.  4.  Diotrephes.         s.  n. 
Also  solved  by  Edward  H.  Hunt,  of  Northampton,  IMs.  ;  Misses  J. 

E.  L.  and  M.  M.  C.  of  Hillsdale,  Mich. ;  and  Alvaro  F.  Gibbens,  of 
Parkersburg,  Va,  who  is  informed  that  the  letter  containing  the  an- 
swers to  so  many  things  in  the  Puzzler's  Drawer  reached  me  too  late, 
for  which  I  am  sorrv,  but  suppose  "there's  no  use  in  crying  for  spilled 
milk."  '  

ANSWER    TO    RIDDLE    NO.    VII. 

How  exquisite  indeed  !     What  work  of  art 

Can  e<|unl  it?     Complete  in  every  part, 

Could  any  mortal  make  the  tubes  so  fine, 

And  count  them  ?     No  !  but  there's  a  Power  divine 

That  does  create,  and  with  peculiar  care 

Numbers,  e'en  witn  a  glance,  our  every  hair.  s.  n. 

Also  solved  by  S.  J.  Axtell,  jr.  of  Grafton,  :\rs.  ;  Edward  H.  Hunt, 
of  Northampton,  Ms.  •  "  A  School-girl,"  of  iNFadison,  N.  Y. ;  Cornelia 
M.  Parmele,  and  Anna  M.  Parmele,  of  Clinton,  N.  Y.  Cornelia  t^ays, 
"While  we  were  puzzling  our  brains  with  this  riddle,  onr  little  sister 
Susan  was  looking  over  the  Cabinet  with  us,  and  her  hair  caught  fire 
in  the  candle.  Was  not  that  curious,  Uncle  Frank  ?"  I  wonder  if  that 
little  circumstance  didn't  suggest  the  answer  to  you — eh? 


THE   puzzler's  DRAWER.  287 


ENIGMA    NO.   VII. 

I  cam  composed  of  21  letters. 

My  19,  12,4, 13,  19, 17,  vvasaneminentphilosopher  of  thelast  century. 

My  13,  8,  9,  16,  15,  8,  17,  8,  was  a  distinorui^hed  Spanish  General. 

My  15,  8,  5,  10,  16,  11,  was  an  eminent  English  poet  and  dramatist 
in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

My  17,  5,  8,  9,  3,  4,  was  a  Spanish  poet  of  the  last  century. 

My  13,  8,  17,  5,  14,  12,  12,-4,  vvjisan  eminent  Flemish  painter. 

My  15,  20,  3,  2,  21,  4,  18,  was  a  Flemish  historian. 

My  10,  17,  18,  8,  6,  5,  2,  was  an  eminent  English  physician  and  phi- 
lologist of  the  fifteenth  century. 

My  15,  8,  9,  16,  3,  was  a  celebrated  poet. 

My  17,  15,  1,  20,  5,  17,  8,  10,  8,  was  a  celebrated  Roman  cardinal. 

My  15,  14,  3,  8,  12,  3,  8,  12,  19,  16,  was  a  celebrated  Italian  lyric 
and  dramatic  poet. 

My  8,  18,  8,  6,  21,  14,  16,  8,  was  a  famous  Ionian  lyric  poet. 

My  15,  20,  18,  16,6,  7,  19,  16,  was  a  learned  Italian  jurist. 

My  whole  was  the  name  of  a  celebrated  French  astronomer  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  c.  p.  mx. 

ENIGMA    NO.    VIII. 

Twice  eight  in  letters  is  my  whole  so  true, 
A  maxim  long  in  use,  yet  good  as  new : 
The  child  discerns  its  truth  as  well  as  sage, 
'Twill  stand  confessed  in  ev'ry  clime  and  age  ; 
Let  each  who  from  this  verse  can  read  my  whole, 
Transcribe  the  simple  line  upon  his  soul. 

My  first,  tenth,  Meventh,  eighth,  the  rank  will  tell 

Of  one  who  long  ago  had  learned  me  well  ; 

My  fourth,  tenth,  Meventh,  fifteenth  will  combined 

Pertain  to    him  more  than  to  all  his  kind. 

My  fourteenth,  thirteenth,  like  my  fourth  and  third, 

Will  give,  though  short,  the  same  expressive  word. 

And  he  who  penned  my  whole,  with  fimc  how  high, 

My  eighth,  third,  fifth,  and  seventh  cloud  his'sky ! 

My  twelfth,  sixth,  ninth,  and  sixteenth  of  the  realm, 

'Twas  his  behest  to  hold  exalted  helm  . 

He  was  the  one  whom  Pope  has  thus  defined, 

"The  wisest,  brightest,  meanest  of  mankind!''        laitba. 


288 


THE   puzzler's  DRAWER, 


ENIGMA    NO    IX. 

My  1,  12,  7,  9,  14,  is  an  article  found  in  every  house. 
My  6,  7,  8,  3,  was  the  name  of  one  of  the  queens  of  England. 
My  7,  13,  12, 10,  5,  was  the  name  of  one  of  the  colonels  in  the  revo- 
lutionary war. 

My  7,  11,  8,  is  something  without  which  no  person  can  live. 

My  7,  12,  2,  6,  is  a  mineral  production  of  Ihe  United  States. 

My  10,  6,  10,  8,  3,  is  found  in  the  gold  mines  of  Peru, 

My  11,  8,  4,  8,  is  the  most  useful  of  all  metals. 

My  6,  7,  6,  5,  7,  is  an  article  used  in  medicine. 

My  whole  is  the  name  and  native  place  of  a  distinguished  physician 


anagrams  of  scripture  proper  names,  no.  ii. 

1.  Hoist  a  pine.  3.  Sail  on  a  Chest. 

2.  March,  Vile  Doe.  4.  A  Load  Ice. 

aliquis. 

A    PRETTY    idea. 

"Papa,  why  does  the  breath  of  cows  smell  so  sweet  ?" 
"Because,  dear,  they  brush  their  teeth  in  clover  every  morning." 


And  now,  dear  readers,  at  the  end  of  another  volume  and  at  the 
close  of  another  year,  Uncle  Frank  bids  you  all  an  affectionate  good- 
hye.  Shall  I  greet  you  all  again  at  the  opening  of  a  new  year  ?  I 
hope  so.     I  hope,  too,  that  it  may  be  our  lot,  at  last,  to  meet  in  heaven. 


J.lj)I)aI}ttkal  Into. 


PAGE 

Acorn   and   the    Mushroom,  a 

Fable 87 

Across  the  Apennines 158 

Alarming  Theft 228 

Alice  Carey's  Pet  Doves 110 

Ants,  Story  of 130 

Apology  for  Hogs 151 

Ascent  of  Mount  Hecla 187 

Aunt  Becky 81 

Bad  Precedent 129 

Bedouin's  Deceit 279 

Bee-Hive,  Lesson  from 116 

Biography  of  Henry  Clay 23 

Birds,  South  American 19 

Blackguard,  Origin  of  the  Term  218 

Blowing  One's  Own  Trumpet..  197 

Blue  Bird's  Lament,  a  Fable  . .  75 

Bologna,  Rambles  In 249 

Boy  and  the  Orange  Tree 29 

Boy  that  wouldn't  get  mad.. .  .  115 

Brazilian  Vesper  Bell 43 

Bugbear  and  its  Victim 222 

Cats  and  Dogs,  how  they  may 

agree 170 

Cavaignac,  General  Eugene. . .  269 

Changes  of  Fashion 272 

Childs  Prayer 282 

Chapter  on  Oranges 178 

Clay,  Henry,  Biography  of..  . .  23 

Cold  Water  Ballad. 258 

Constantinople,  Quackery  in..  185 

Coral  Reef,  Lesson  from 168 


PAGE 

Cromwell   and   the    Duke    of 

Savoy 271 

Crows,  Do  they  Reason  ? 139 

Daisy   and   Ear   of  Wheat,    a 

Fable 83 

Do  Crows  Reason  ? 139 

Dogs  and  Dog-Carts 88 

Dr.  Johnson's  Courtship 284 

Dr.  Franklin's  Mistake 16 

Eagle,  the  Sea 31 

Early  Rising 167 

English  Peasant 101 

Example  of  Washington 28 

Exemplary  Crane,  Fable  of. . .  137 

Extraordinary  Memory 121 

Fable  of  the  Acorn  and  Mush- 
room   87 

Fable  of  the  Blue  Bird 75 

Fable  of  the  Exemplary  Crane  137 

Fable  of  the  Tree  and  the  Bark  113 

Fashion,  Changes  of. 272 

Feigning  Death 109 

Fight  with  a  Tiger 68 

Flying  Fish  and  his  Enemies. .  247 

Florence,  A  Week  in 200 

Fortune  Teller 255 

Qall  Flies  and  Nut  Galls 275 

Girl  and  the  Fire-Flies 216 

Glance  at  the  Poor  in  London.  55 

God  Careth  for  the  Children. .  169 


VI 


INDEX. 


Page 

Good  Gun 259 

Good  Old  Plough 34 

Good  Retort 182 

Good  Rule 274 

Gunpowder  Plot 225 

Handel's  Organ-Playing 235 

Hogs,  An  Apology  for 161 

Homeward  Bound 38 

How  a  Story  Grows 238 

How  to  make  Cats  and  Dogs 

agree 170 

How  to  Rise  in  the  World 176 

Isle  of  Wight..... 101 

Italian  Diligence 159 

John  O'  Groat's  Hou?e 79 

John  Pounds  and  his  Pupils.. .  59 

King  and  the  Judge 173 

King  and  the  MiUer 180 

Lament   of  the   Blue   Bird,   a 

Fable 75 

Laughter 228 

Lesson  from  the  Bee  Hive.  ...  116 

Lesson  from  the  Coral  Reef..  .  168 

Little  Bird  Thief 224 

Living  Without  Food 278 

Loudon,  Glance  at  the  Poor  in.  55 

Lycidas  of  Milton 181 

Man  Buried  in  a  Well 118 

May  Day,  Story  of. 70 

Memory,  Extraordinary 121 

Milton's  Lycidas 181 

Miracle,  Pretended 262 

Missionary's  Tour 264 

Mistake  of  Dr.  Frauklin 16 

Morning  Glory 157 

Mount  Hecla,  Ascent  of 187 

My  Pet  Ants 130 


PAOB 

My  Sister's  Grave 30 

My  Wren  Family 39 

Napoleon's  Heart 263 

New  B*)ots,  Anecdote  of 199 

Noble  Act  and  its  Reward 273 

Nut  Galls 276 

Oranges,  A  Chapter  on 178 

Orange-Tree  and  the  Boy 29 

Organ  Playing,  Handel's 236 

Origin  of  Spectacles 176 

Patch  on  Both  Knees 280 

Peep  at  Rockville 219 

Pet  Ants 130 

Pet  Ourarig  Outang 232 

IV't  Doves,  Alice  Carey's 110 

Petunia  and  Holly  Tree 221 

Pompeii  as  it  is   9 

Poor  Boy  and  the  Rector 237 

Poor  in  London,  Glance  at. . . .  88 

Porcupine.  Description  of.  ....  174 

Pounds  John,  and  his  Pupils. .  59 
Power  of  the   Mind  over    the 

Body 164 

Pretended  Miracle 262 

Quackery  at  Constantinople.. .  186 

Ragged  Schools  in  London. ...  69 

Rambles  in  Bologna 249 

Repetition  in  Sermons 29 

Ride  on  a  Whale 17 

Ride  on  the  Back  of  a  Hyena .  266 

Ride.  The 212 

Rockville,  A  Peep  at 219 

Sea  Eagle,  Description  of . . . .  31 

Sermons,  Repetition  in 29 

Signs 86 

Singular  Law 163 

Smooth  ShiUing 236 


INDEX. 


Vll 


Something     About     Helping 

Others 260 

South  American  Birds 19 

Spectacles,  Origin  of. 175 

Story  of  May  Day 70 

The  Angel  Sister 184 

The  Bitter  Grief. 37 

The  English  Peasant 101 

The  Tear 215 

The  Little  Boy  that  Died 183 

ITie  Orphan's  Home 114 

The  Ride 212 

The  Smooth  Shilling 236 

Tiger,  Fight  with 68 

Tour,  Missionary's 264 

Tree  and  the  Bai-k,  Fable  of. . .  113 

Two  Songsters 66 


Two  Ways   of  Bearing  Disap- 
pointment   229 

Unwelcome  Passenger 213 

Vacation  Dialogue 42 

Vesper  Bell,  the  Brazilian ....  43 

Washington,  Anecdote  of. 180 

Washington,  Example  of. 28 

Whale,  A  Ride  on 17 

Who  Played  the  Organ  ? 189 

Wonders  of  the  Universe 44 

Work  and  Play 218 

Wren  Family 39 

Young  Cottager 106 

Young  Wood-Gatherers 122 


VUl  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Iltotratos  ani  (gmhellislrnunts. 


PAO« 

Frontispiece 1 

Vignette  on  Title  Page 8 

The  Century  Plant 18 

The  Whale  and  his  Captors 17 

Portrait  of  Henry  Clay 22 

The  Sea  Eagle 31 

Life  on  the  Farm , 35 

My  Wren  Family .' 39 

View  of  the  Somerset  House,  London 54 

John  Pounds  and  his  Ragged  Pupils 69 

An  Adventure  with  Pickpockets 64 

A  Fierce  Tiger 68 

The  Blue  Bird's  Lament 75 

John  O'  Groat's  House 79 

The  English  Peasant  Girl 101 

Alice  Carey's  Pet  Doves 110 

The  Bee-Hive  and  its  Visitors 116 

The  Young  Wood-Gatherers 122 

My  Pet  Ants 130 

The  Exemplary  Crane 137 

A  Cosy  Family  of  Hogs 150 

The  Morning  Glory 157 

The  Mother  and  her  Dying  Child 165 

The  Cunning  Dog 170 

The  Porcupine 174 

Milton's  Lycidas 181 

Blowing  One's  Own  Trumpet 1 97 

The  Shetland  Pony 209 

Work  and  Play 217 

A  Pet  Ourang-Outang 232 

The  Flying  Fish  in  Trouble 246 

The  Fortune-Teller 255 

Portrait  of  General  Cavaignac 268 

Nut  Galls 275 

Gall  Flies 276 


OF  THK    . 

UNIVERSITY 


^A 


^LIFOR!^ 


1J 


♦ 


I 


/     // 


i^ 


^/    A 


///  r^  (r\ 


WOODWOHTH'S 


YOUTH'S    CABINET 


FEANCIS  C.  WOODWOETH, 

ilJTHOR    OF    "  UNCLE    FRANk's    HOME    STORIES,"    "STORIES    ABOUT    ANIMALS," 
"THEODORE    THINKEr's   TALES,"  "  INSECT  WONDERS,"  ETC.  ETC. 


VOL.  V. 


NEW   YOEK: 

D.   AUSTIN     WOODWORTH, 

PUBLISHER. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  18o3,  by 

D.   AUSTIN   WOODWORTII, 

In  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


STEREOTTPEO    BT  PR:NT3D    BT 

THOMAS  B.    SMITH,  JD.TORRET 


i 


YOUTH'S  CABINET. 


THE  DROLLEEIES  OF  SANTA  GLAUS. 


such 
a  personage  as  our  merry  friend 
Santa  Claus  ever  found  his  way 
into  the  calendar.  He  is  some- 
times called  Saint  Nicholas,  I  believe. 
But  is  this  Nicholas  the  same  saint  as 
the  one  held  in  especial  repute  by  the 
Russians  ?  If  so,  he  is  a  famous  patron 
of  virgins  and  seafaring  men  ;  and  besides — though 
that  is  not  very  much  to  his  praise,  and  I  don't  set  it  down  to  his 
credit — the  arch-fiend  somehow  got  his  name  of  Old  Knick  from 
him.  How  is  it  ?  Shades  of  our  Dutch  ancestors !  solve  the  en- 
igma, and  let  not  the  terrible  fate  happen  to  us,  that  Hamlet  was 
afraid  would  happen  to  him,  in  case  his  father's  shade  did  not 
speak  to  him.  Santa  Claus  seems  to  have  been  a  fast  friend  of 
the  Dutch  boys  and  girls,  from  time  immemorial ;  and  I  mistrust 
"that  some  of  our  citizens,  with  names  so  long  and  guttural  that  an 
out-and-out  Yankee  would  make  sad  work  pronouncing  them,  could 
tell  us  how  he  came  to  be  canonized,  and  when  and  where  that 
great  event  took  place.  I  hope  they  will  dispel  all  the  fog  that 
hangs  about  our  minds  on  this  subject,  and  that  they  will  do  it 
very  soon  indeed,  if  not  sooner..    But  I  cannot  "  pause  for  a  reply." 


8         THE  DROLLERIES  OF  SANTA  GLAUS. 

My  head  is  at  present  so  full  of  this  veteran  Santa  Claus  and  his 
drolleries,  that  1  must  chat  a  minute  about  him,  at  all  events.  In 
the  absence  of  the  authentic  chronicles  concerning  his  birth,  early- 
education,  and  wonderful  exploits,  while  in  the  flesh,  it  may  not 
be  amiss  to  collect  in  a  compact  ball  what  we  do  know  abgut  him, 
and  to  wind  around  that  ball  some  threads  of  tradition.  In  so  do- 
ing, it  is  to  be  hoped  I  shall  not  fall  into  a  track  like  that  reputed 
to  have  been  pursued  by  a  rather  queer  parson,  who  divided  his 
discourse  into  three  separate ||fcrts,  thus  :  "  First,"  he  said,  "I  will 
tell  you,  my  hearers,  what  you  and  I  both  know  of  this  subject; 
secondly,  what  I  know  and  you  don't  know  ;  and  thirdly,  what 
neither  you  nor  I  know  much  about." 

It  has  been  said,  by  those  who  have  unquestionably  very  toler- 
able means  of  forming  a  correct  judgment,  tliat  this  Santa  Claus  is, 
after  all,  a  fabulous  character,  something  like  the  St.  George  who 
is  famed  for  dragon-killing,  and  something  like  the  St.  Valentine 
who  performs  such  service  in  love  affairs  on  a  certain  day  in  the 
year.  But  be  that  as  it  may — whether  our  generous  old  friend 
Santa  Claus  be  purely  a  creature  of  the  fancy,  as  I  half  suspect 
he  is,  or  not — it  cannot  be  denied  that  he  has  got  the  credit  of 
doing  wondoiful,  almost  miraculous  things  for  good  boys  and 
girls  during  the  Christmas  and  New  Year  holidays.  He  cuts  end- 
less capers  with  them.  He  is  as  sly  as  a  very  thief  in  bestowing 
his  favors.  He  comes  not  with  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  as  the 
hypocrites  do,  when  he  chooses  to  open  his  heart  or  his  pocket 
for  the  benefit  of  the  little  people.  Santa  Claus — mark  that — is 
never  seen.  Nobody  ever  saw  him,  though  everybody  has  heard 
of  him,  and  handled,  perhaps  tasted,  the  good  things  he  has  left 
behind  him,  while  his  little  friends  were  sound  asleep.  Endless 
stories  are  current  about  his  mysterious  egress  to  the  family  circle. 
Now-a-days,  we  hear  of  his  coming  down  the  chimney.  This  mod 
of  entering  a  house  would  be  deemed  rather  improper  for  any  oth 
personages  besides  Santa  Claus  and  the  chimney-sweep.  But  how 
did  the  notion  get  wind  that  this  jolly  saint  came  down  the  chim- 
ney ?  Probably  because  it  must  seem  so  plain  that  there  is  no 
other  wa}^  when  the  doors  and  w^indows  are  closed,  for  him  to  get 
in.     But  how  did  he   manage,  in   the  very  olden  time,  when  our 


i 


OLD   FATHEB  CHRISTMAS. 


THE  DROLLERIES  OF  SANTA  GLAUS.        11 

ancestors  in  Britain  liad  no  chimneys  to  their  houses  ?  That  is  a 
question  over  wliich  I  have  never  heard  any  learning  expended. 
Would  it  not  be  well  for  our  wise  men  to  call  up  the  subject,  and 
shed  some  beams  of  light  upon  it  ? 

Santa  Claus  has  generally  been  supposed  to  be  a  near  blood  rela- 
tive of  old  Father  Christmas,  whom  he  greatly  resembles,  as  all  the 
world  knows.  But  I  have  been  pondering  over  that  matter,  and  I 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Father  Christmas  and  Santa  Claus 
are  one  and  the  same  individual,  with  different  names.  I  don't 
ask  any  one  else  to  believe  this,  without  examining  the  question  ; 
but  my  mind  is  thoroughly  made  up.  Our  English  ancestors,  long 
time  ago,  made  a  great  account  of  Father  Christmas.  Precisely 
where  they  discovered  the  merry  old  fellow,  may  be  a  matter  of 
doubt.  It  may  be  he  turned  up  among  a  multitude  of  rather  fabu- 
lous characters,  which  our  forefathers  imported  from  Scandinavia. 
At  all  events,  the  outward  appearance  and  turn  of  mind  with 
which  they  invest  him  are  entirely  in  keeping  with  those  of  a  per- 
sonage famed  in  the  mythology  of  those  northern  regions.  Father 
Chiistmas,  by  those  who  seem  to  have  the  best  acquaintance  with 
l»im,  is  represented  with  an  elf-like  face,  a  crown  of  mistletoe  on 
his  head,  a  very  long  and  snowy  beard,  a  great  log  on  his  back, 
with  which  to  make  a  huge  fire  on  the  kitchen  hearth,  and  a  mam- 
moth bowl  in  his  hand,  the  contents  of  which  are  supposed  to  be 
capable  of  making  all  the  mouths  in  the  kingdom  water  at  once. 
It  would  be  a  curious  and  profitable  problem  for  you  to  try  to  solve, 
by  reading  history  and  by  conversation  with  older  persons,  how 
and  when  all  the  customs  connected  with  the  observance  of  the 
Christmas  and  New  Year  festivals  originated.  No  doubt  they  came 
into  vogue  gradually,  not  all  at  once,  and  they  were  imported,  too, 
we  have  reason  to  believe,  from  different  portions  of  the  world. 
Some  might  have  come  from  the  old  Druids.  Are  not  the  oak  log 
^which  old  Father  Christmas  carries  on  his  back,  and  the  crown  of 
mistletoe  on  his  head,  relics  of  the  Druidical  notions  ?  Some  of 
the  associations  connected  with  these  festivals  came  from  the  North- 
men, and  some  from  the  ancient  Romans.  But,  wherever  they 
came  from,  and  however  they  originated,  I  confess  I  have  a  great 
respect  for  them.     To  my  mind,  whether   they  had  their  origin 


12  A  NOVEL   ANIMAL. 

among  Pagans  or  Christians,  they  seem  innocent,  and  as  they  make 
the  little  folks  happy,  I  respect  them,  and  vote  for  them.  No  mat- 
ter if  the  genius  sometimes  called  Santa  Clans,  sometimes  St.  Nich- 
olas, and  sometimes  Father  Christmas,  is  an  imaginary  person- 
age, having  no  real  existence,  except  in  the  imagination  of  chil- 
dren. There  is  no  harm  in  talking,  in  sport,  as  if  your  nice  things 
came  through  such  a  medium  as  that  of  Santa  Claus.  When, 
after  hanging  up  your  stocking  at  night,  you  find  it  crowded  full 
of  beautiful  and  valuable  presents,  it  is  well  enough  to  say,  in  fun, 
"  See  what  Santa  Claus  has  done  for  me  !"  In  fun — not  seriously. 
I  want  all  my  young  friends  to  get  in  the  habit  of  looking  to  an- 
other Being  as  the  source  of  all  the  good  things  they  receive.  He 
is  invisible,  too.  We  cannot  see  his  hand,  when  he  bestows  his 
gifts.  '^IP  cannot  hear  his  voice.  But,  unlike  the  fabled  genius 
we  have  been  talking  of,  he  is  a  living,  acting,  loving  Spirit,  never- 
theless. All  that  we  enjoy  conofes  from  him.  Let  us  ever  remem- 
beMhis.  Xet  us  learn  to  say,  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Bless  the  Lord, 
O  my  souT/mnd  forget  not  all  his  benefits." 


A  NOVEL  ANIMAL. 


One  of  the  most  novel  and  recent  additions  to  the  animals  in 
the  Zoological  Gardens,  Regent's  park,  is  the  Choirojjotainus. 
The  Choiropotamus  is,  as  its  name  implies,  a  river  pig ;  not,  how- 
ever, with  any  extraordinary  aquatic  tendencies.  He  has  been 
brought  from  the  banks  of  the  Senegambia,  amongst  the  swamps 
of  whose  borders,  and  those  of  the  other  rivers  of  Western  Africa, 
he  delights  to  dwell.  His  appearance  is  not  unlike  that  of  a  com- 
mon pig.  He  has  larger  legs,  and  is  more  squarely  built.  Thei 
most  striking  feature  of  the  animal  is  the  color  of  its  hair- 
which  may  be  called  sandy.  It  is  long  and  less  coarse  than  that 
of  a  common  pig.  The  ears  are  very  long  and  black.  Of  the 
hog  tribe,  I  think  this  is  decidedly  the  cleanest  and  most  gen- 
tlemanly specimen. 


DK.   JOHNSO^'    ON   LIARP 


18 


THE  SOlSra  OF  WINTER. 


"Wrs'TER,  winter,  it  is  here! 
Choicest  season  of  the  year, 
Who  would  mourn  the  summer  gone, 
When  glad  winter  cometli  on  ? 

Winter,  winter,  it  is  here ! 
Now's  the  time  for  merr}'-  cheer. 
Every  heart  must  joyous  be. 
Every  e3'e  beam  happily. 

Winter,  winter,  it  is  here ! 
Who  of  cold  doth  have  a  fear  ? 
Let  him  briskly  work  and  play. 
Tills  will  keep  the  cold  away. 

Winter,  winter,  it  is  here ! 
Tinkling  sleigh  bells  greet  the  ear; 
Over  beds  of  purest  snow, 
Merrily  our  horses  go ! 

Winter,  winter,  it  is  here! 
Boys  put  on  your  skating  gear  ; 


Is  there  one  but  loves  to  glide 
O'er  the  river's  frozen  tide  ? 

Winter,  winter,  it  is  here  ! 
Now  when  day  doth  disappear, 
Gather  we  around  the  hearth. 
Freely  flows  our  joyous  mirth. 

Lamps  are  lighted,  book  is  brought, 
Read  aloud  are  gems  of  thought. 
Nine  o'clock,  and  father  dear 
Calleth  us  for  evening  prav'r. 

Then  to  our  warm  beds  we  hie, 
Sot)n  is  closed  in  sleep  each  eye. 
Dreams  as  snow  flakes  free  and  light, 
Visit  us  the  livelong  night. 

Winter,  choicest  season  mine  ! 
Pleasures  such  as  these  are  thine  ; 
If  approved  by  His  dear  eye, 
Days  and  nights  how  swiftly  fly  1 

8. 


DR.  JOHNSON  ON  LIARS. 

Even  the  robber  and  cut-throat  have  their  followers,  who  ad- 
mire their  address  and  intrepidity,  their  stratagem  of  rapine,  and 
their  fidelity  to  the  gang.  The  liar,  and  only  the  liar,  is  inva- 
riably despised,  abandoned,  and  disowned  ;  he  has  no  domestic 
consolations,  which  he  can  oppose  to  the  censure  of  mankind  ; 
he  can  retire  to  no  fraternity,  where  his  crimes  may  stand  in 
place  of  virtue,  but  is  given  up  to  the  hisses  of  the  multitude, 
without  a  friend,  and  without  an  apologist. 


14 


THE   HOME   OF   SHAKSPEARE. 


THE  HOME  OF  SHAKSPEAEE. 


HERE  is  a  little  village,  situated  on  the  river  Avon, 
called  Stratford.  It  is  not  very  remarkable  for 
the  beauty  of  its  situation — although  it  is  pretty 
enough — and,  indeed,  it  has  few  intrinsic  attrac- 
,  tions  ;  yet  it  is,  nevertheless,  one  of  the  most  famous 
■f#p]aces  in  old  England.  It  is  known  all  over  the  civilized 
world,  and  thousands  every  year  make  pilgrimages  to  it. 
They  do  not  worship  there,  as  Mohammedans  do  at  Mecca  ;  but 
they  go  there  because  of  their  admiration  of  the  genius  of  the 
greatest  bard  that  ever  lived.  There,  in  a  cottage  still  standing, 
was  born  William  Shakspeare.  In  that  little  village,  near  which 
the  Avon  flows  so  noiselessly,  the  great  poet  spent  the  years  of 
romping  boyhood.  From  that  spot  the  great  world  first  heard  of 
him  ;  and  there,  in  the  parish  church,  a\\*  that  is  mortal  of  him 
now  reposes.  The  day  of  my  advent  to  Stratford-on-Avon,  is  a 
red-letter  day  in  my  history.  I  cannot  tell  you  with  what  enthu- 
siasm my  heart  throbbed,  as  I  took  my  seat  on  the  top  of  the 
veritable  stage  coach  which  was  to  convey  m§  to  Stratford.  Though 
I  had  previously  visited  nearly  all  the  sM*8  .of  Napoleon's  great 
victories,  and  had  seen  I  know  not  how  many  beds  (%^'hich  the 
hero  had  slept ;  though  I  had  lounged  in  his  favorite  "state  car- 
riage ;  traced  the  letters  he  had  cut  with  the  imperial  pen-knife  on 
a  tree  at  Isola  Bella  on  the  very  day  of  the  battle  of  Marengo, 
and  had  followed  his  track  over  the  Alps,  and  rambled  over  many 
of  his  battle-fields — I  had  never  felt  a  tithe  of  the  interest  in  that 
great  man,  all  covered  with  glory  and  blood,  that  I  did  now  in  this 
pilgrimage  to  the  early  haunts  of  Shakspeare.  Military  heroes  are 
well  enough,  I  suppose,  in  their  way.  But  they  do  not  make  so 
large  a  draft  on  my  organ  of  veneration  as  those  who  have  distin- 


THE   HOME   OF   SHAKSPEARB.  15 


guished  themselves  as  poets,  statesmen,  orators,  benefactors  of  their 
race. 

It  struck  me  as  rather  a  singular  fact,  that,  all  covered  with  rail- 
ways as  so  great  a  portion  of  England  is,  you  cannot  reach  Strat- 
ford from  any  point  by  means  of  the  iron  horse.  Is  it  not  strange  ? 
I  had  reached  Banbury  by  railway  from  Oxford.  You  remember 
a  little  village  called  Banbury,  don't  you  ?  It  was  a  household 
word  to  me.  When  they  told  me  I  was  at  Banbury,  the  first  in- 
quiry I  made  was  after  the  celebrated  Banbury  huns.  Those  I 
found,  warranted  descendants  in  a  direct  line  from  the  buns  that 
regaled  the  children  in  the  days  of  the  "  good  Queen  Bess."  The 
"  cock-horse"  on  which  somebody  "  rode  to  Banbury  cross,"  I  was 
not  so  successful  in  finding.  I  will  tell  you  what  I  did  find, 
though.  As  I  was  loitering  about  the  quiet  little  village  in  search 
of  something  worth  staring  at,  be  it  a  "cock-horse"  or  anything 
else,  I  saw  a  sign  over  a  small  building  on  which  were  the  words, 
"  Infant  School.''^  "  Good  !"  I  said  to  myself,  "  here  are  some  of 
the  little  urchins  at  all  events,  who  are  the  descendants  of  the  men 
and  women  who  must  have  witnessed  that  famoas  advent  to  Ban- 
bury Cross ;  and  who  knows  but  one  of  them  is  himself  a  scion  of 
that  illustrious  somebody  who  performed  the  feat  ?"  So  I  quick- 
ened my  pace — for  I  had  only  two  hours  to  spare  before  the  coach 
was  to  start — reached  the  school-house,  knocked,  was  admitted,  in- 
troduced myself  as  a  live  Yankee,  and  was  politely  invited  to  take 
a  seat  and  see  the  children  go  thi'ough  their  evolutions.  There 
were  two  ladies  engaged  in  teaching  the  children,  of  whom  there 
were  some  two  hundred  and  fifty,  all  told.  I  cannot  say  much  for 
the  excellence  of  this  institution.  It  has  its  good  points,  I  sup- 
pose. But  it  strikes  me  as  peculiarly  unwise  to  herd  together  such 
an  army  of  children,  half  of  whom  are  but  just  old  enough  to  walk, 
and  to  keep  them  sitting  so  long  in  bad  air.  "  What  do  you  think 
of  the  school  ?"  said  the  chief  matron,  after  a  round  of  exercises. 
"  Madam,"  I  said, "  I  like  your  school  as  well  as  anything  of  the 
kind  I  ever  saw;  but  couldn't  you  contrive  to  get  these  little  folks 
decently  washed  ?"  The  only  answer  she  gave  me  was  a  shrug  of 
the  shoulders.  The  question  took  her  all  aback.  I  am  not  sure 
but  she  has  been  considering  it  ever  since. 


16  THE  HOME  OF  SHAKSPEARE. 

By-and-bye  the  little  creatures,  some  of  whom  were  sleepy  enoii<Th, 
so  that  their  little  heads  dropped  on  their  shoulders,  were  ranged 
on  seats  raised  one  above  another  upon  a  platform  in  one  end  of 
the  room,  and  I  was  requested  to  make  an  address  to  them.  You 
may  be  sure  I  was  delighted  to  do  so.  I  talked  to  them  about  fif- 
teen minutes.  The  sleepy  ones  got  waked  up  pretty  thoroughly 
before  I  had  done.  "  And  now,"  I  said  in  conclusion,  "  would  you 
like  to  hear  the  Song  of  the  Snow  Bird  ?"  They  all  nodded  as- 
sent, and  I  sang  the  child's  little  ballad  of  the  chick-a-de-de.  They 
were  delighted  with  the  song,  and  as  for  the  teachers,  they  wanted 
copies  of  it  to  send  to  all  the  infant  schools  in  England. 

The  coach  took  me  from  Banbury  to  Warwick,  by  the  way  of 
Leamington,  quite  a  celebrated  watering-place.  From  Warwick, 
we  had  a  very  heavy  load  of  passengers  and  trunks.  The  pro- 
prietor, riowever,  who  was  himself  in  the  coach,  still  kept  taking 
more  passengers,  although  we  begged  of  him  not  to  do  so,  fearing 
the  vehicle  would  break  down.  My  place  was  on  the  top,  and  I 
did  not  much  relish  the  descent  I  might  make,  in  case  of  a  dis- 
aster to  the  coach.  When  about  half  way  to  Stratford,  it  began  to 
rain  violentl}'-,  and  right  in  the  midst  of  the  drenching,  crack  went 
the  understanding  of  our  vehicle.  It  was  not  able  to  bear  up 
under  its  severe  trials  and  infirmities.  Tiie  deck  passengers,  more 
scared  than  hurt,  came  to  the  ground,  myself  among  the  number, 
by  the  simple  force  of  gravitation.  vThose  in  the  cabin,  who 
•were  mostly  ladies,  screamed.  The  driver  swore — jdst  as  if  that 
would  make  matters  any  better — and  the  travelers  scolded  the  pro- 
prietor. We  hoisted  a  signal  of  distress,  by  which  means  we  se- 
cured assistance,  and  were  towed  to  a  blacksmith's  shop  not  far  off, 
where  our  damages  were  temporarily  repaired  ;  and  soon  we  were 
on  our  way  again.  This  accident,  like  nearly  all  fise  otl^ers  in 
which  I  shared  while  in  Eurq^e,  resulted  altogether  in  my  favor. 
By  it  I  was  placed  inside  the  coach,  which  was  not  of  itself  a  very 
unpleasant  circumstance,  considering  the  driving  rain,  and  not  only 
so,  but  I  soon  found  myself  chatting  with  an  exceedingly  pleasant 
young  lady,  a  native  of  the  county  of  Warwick,  who  entertained 
me  all  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Stratford  with  her  piquant  remarks 
about  the  county. 


THE  HOME  OF  SHAKSPEAKE.  17 

I  stopped  at  the  same  inn  where  Washington  Irving  remained 
while  in  Stratford.  The  oWiging  host  showed  me  a  pair  of  tongs 
and  poker  which  his  literary  guest  has  honored  in  his  "Sketch- 
book." He  keeps  them  as  relics,  and  is  vastly  proud  of  them. 
"  That  poker,"  said  he,  ''  which  is  hardly  worth  a  hmjpenny,  (the 
English  people  almost  always  pronounce  half-penny  in  this  man- 
ner,) I  would  not  sell  for  a  hundred  pounds."  Perhaps  not,  but  I 
guess  the  money,  all  counted  out  in  sovereigns — Victoria  sover- 
eigns, of  full  weight — would  be  a  strong  temptation  to  him. 

The  house  where  Shakspeare  was  born  is,  on  the  whole,  the 
most  noted  lion  in  Stratford.  To  it  I  repaired  in  an  hour  after  my 
arrival.  An  elderly  lady  shows  us  what  there  is  to  be  seen  in 
the  old  mansion.  To  hear  her  talk,  you  would  almost  fancy  it  was 
Ann  Hathaway  herself,  the  veritable  wife  of  the  great  poet.  The 
building  is  antique  enough.  It  is  quite  a  humble  affair,  ^here 
is  nothing  lordly  in  its  appearance,  w^ithout  or  within.  The 
truth  is,  Shakspeare's  father  was  far  from  being  a  rich  man. 
Will  had  to  make  his  way  in  the  world  by  his  own  laboi-,  or  his 
own  wit,  which  is  about  the  same  thing.  You  can't  imagine  what 
a  multitude  of  names  there  are  in  a  book  which  they  keep  here. 
As  I  turned  over  its  pages — and  this,  you  must  know,  is  only  one 
of  the  pile  of  books  which  have  been  written  over  in  the  same 
way — it  really  seemed  to  me  as  if  all  the  great  men  and  women 
who  had  lived  since  the  death  of  the  great  poet  had  made  a 
pilgrimage  here.  Here  I  saw  the  names,  written  with  their  own 
hands,  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Orleans,  Walter  Scott,  Byron, 
Washington  Ir\'ing,  James  Hogg,  Joanna  Baillie,  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  George  IV.  William  IV.  Maria  Edgeworth,  Daniel 
Webster,  and  I  cannot  stop  to  tell  you  how  many  more  equally  dis- 
tinguished personages.  The  walls  and  the  ceiling  of  the  room  in 
which  the  book  is  kept  are  all  covered  over  with  names,  as  closely 
as  they  can  be  written  ;  and  the  good  lady  who  does  the  honors 
of  the  mansion,  told  us  that  the  present  generation  of  names  is  the 
third  or  fourth  which  have  successively  flourislied,  the  whole  room 
having  been  whitewashed  as  many  times,  by  which  process  all  the 
heroes  respectively  then  on  the  stage  were  consigned  to  unmitigated 
oblivion.     It  is  proper  to  state,  that  there  are  two  houses  in  Sti'at- 


18  THE   HOME    OF   SHAKSPEARE. 

f 'i-d,  between  which  a  spicy  and  rather  spiteful  rivahy  exists,  each 
claiming  to  be  the  great  centre  of  attraction.  I  believe  there  is  no 
doubt  that  the  house  they  show  us  as  the  birth-place  of  the  poet 
is  genuine.  With  respect  to  some  of  these  relics,  however,  the 
most  of  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  other  house  I  have  alluded 
to,  they  are  not  all  quite  so  well  authenticated,  and  some  of  them, 
if  admitted  into  an  antiquarian's  creed  at  all,  can  only  be  received, 
I  apprehend,  as  some  Calvinists  take  the  Westminster  Catechism, 
''  for  substance  of  doctrine."  However,  this  rival  house  is  a  vastly 
interesting  place  to  visit,  and  no  hunter  after  Shakspearean  an- 
tiquities should  leave  Stratford  without  exploring  it.  They  have 
more  enthusiasm  here  than  they  have  at  the  old  homestead.  That 
is  one  good  thing.  They  talk  none  of  the  stupid  gibberish  of  the 
parrot  to  you  ;  but  they  go  at  their  business  of  showing  up  the 
relici^s  if  they  had  caught  some  of  the  fire  that  burned  in  the 
soul  of  the  great  bard,  as  I  make  no  doubt  they  have.  They  are 
descendants  of  Siiakspearo,  they  tell  us,  and  the  grandmother  of 
the  lady  who  enteitained  us  was  born  in  the  same  room  where 
William  first  saw  the  light.  Shakspeare's  chair,  the  identical  chair 
in  which  he  was  wont  to  sit,  they  reverently  show  us,  as  also  a  great 
many  other  things,  all  of  which  I  gazed  upon  with  a  great  deal  of 
faith,  mingled  with  a  few  drachms  of  scepticism.  Reams  of  poetry, 
taken  from  the  old  house,  have  accumulated  here.  Some  of  it  is 
good,  some  bad,  and  the  greater  portion  indifferent.  The  stanza 
following  I  copied  as  belonging  to  the  first-mentioned  grade.  It 
was  written  by  one  who  was  accompanied  by  two  ladies,  whom  he 
compliments  in  this  strain  : 

Immortal   spirit !  in  thy  natal  place 

A  Desdemona's  mind  and  Juliet's  grace 

Bend  ai;  thy  shrine.     Receive  the  homage   due 

Frona  sweeter  virtues  than  thy  fancy  drew. 

Was  not  the  writer  in  love  ?  I  would  give  a  haypenny  to  know 
if  he  did  not  eventually  marry  either  the  Desdemona  or  the  Juliet. 
A  picture  of  David  and  Goliath,  not  by  any  means  in  the  highest 
style  of  the  art,  is  shown  us  as  the  one,  if  my  memory  serves  me, 
over  the  mantel-piece  of  the  best  room  in  Shakspeare's  house.     It 


THE   HOME    OF   SHAKSPEARE. 


19 


is  dated  1606,  and  underneath  it  are  these  lines,  which  certainly 
were  not  written  by  Milton,  unless  at  a  very  tender  age  : 

Goliali  comes   with,  sword  and  speare, 

And  David  with  his  sling; 
Although  Goliah.  rage  and  sweare, 

Down  David  doth  him  hring. 


THE   MONITMENT    OF   SHAKSPEARE. 


The  church  in  which  Shakspeare  was  interred  is  quite  an  old 
edifice.  I  attended  service  there  on  Sunday.  It  is  delightfully 
situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Avon.  The  approach  to  it  is  by  a 
lono-  avenue  formed  by  two  rows  of  beautiful  lime  trees.  I  did  not 
like  the  way  in  which  the  service  was  read.  Why  do  so  many 
English  clergymen  adopt  that  sing-song  tone  when   they  read  ? 


20  THE   HOME   OF   SHAKSPEARE. 

What  is  the  benefit  of  it  ?  The  beadle  is  quite  a  military-looking 
character.  He  carries  a  long  pole,  and  wears  a  regimental  coat, 
with  red  collar  and  cuffs.  One  look  at  him  would  frighten  all  the 
boys  in  a  Connecticut  meeting-house  half,  if  not  three  quarters  out 
of  their  senses.  The  responses  were  all  sung,  and  well  sung,  too. 
This  part  of  the  service  was  very  impressive. 

The  poet's  monument  is  in  the  chancel.  A  bust  on  the  wall, 
above  the  spot  where  he  was  interred,  is  said  to  be  a  very  truthful 
likeness;  It  is  from  this  bust  that  most  of  the  likenesses  of  Shaks- 
peare  were  originally  taken.  On  a  plain  slab  over  his  remains  are 
these  lines,  written  by  himself : 

n 

Good  frend,  for  Jesus'  sake  forteare 
To   digg  ye   dust  enclosed  heare  ; 
Blest  "be  ye  man  yt  spares   thes  stones, 
And  curst  be  he  yt  moves  my  bones. 

These  lines,  probably,  have  prevented  the  removal  of  the  poet's  re- 
mains to  Westminster  Abbey.  Nobody  cares  to  run  the  risk  of 
incurring  the  anathema  which  stares  at  us  on  the  face  of  this 
stone.  .« 

Snakspeare's  wife  is  interred  by  his  side.  On  a  brass  plate  is  this 
inscription  :  "  Here  yeth  interred  ye  body  of  Anne,  wife  of  Wil- 
liam Shakspeare,  who  departed  this  life  yc  6th  day  of  August,  1G23, 
being  of  the  age  of  67  years."  ^ 

Apropos  of  this  Ann  Hathaway,  who  made  the  poet  such  an 
excellent  wife,  I 'went  on  a  pilgrimage  one  day  to  Chartery,  and 
visited  the  cottage  where  she  was  born  and  where  William  did  his 
courting.  The  identical  old  seat,  somethino:  in  the  form  of  the 
settle  kept  as  an  heir-loom  in  some  New  England  families,  is  still 
extant,  on  which  the  poet  used  to  sit!  with  Ann,  pending  the  said 
courtship.  If  you  will  not  charge  me  with  beiff^  an  inveterate 
relic-hunter,  I  will  just  intimate  to  you  that  I  broke  off  a  piece 
of  that  old  seat,  and  that  it  is  now  preserved  in  my  cabinet  of  cu- 
rious things.  A  descendant  of  the  Hathaway  family  still  lives  here. 
She  is  a  fine  specimen  of  the  peasantry  of  old  England,  with  her 
head  full  of  reverent  thoughts  of  her  honored  ancestors.  The  bed- 
stead which  stood  in  the  best  room  as  long  ago  as  the  time  when 


THE   HOME    OF   SHAKSPEARE.  21 

Ann  was  a  romping  girl  at  home,  still  stands  in  the  garret.  It  is 
made  of  oak,  and  curiously  and  grotesquely  carved.  The  posts  are 
of  huge  dimensions,  and  surmounted  with  a  sort  of  ceiling.  Fig- 
ures, mostly  representing,  or  intended  to  represent  scripture  char- 
acters and  more  modern  saints,  are  carved  upon  this  ceiling.  The 
work  is  exceedingly  rude.  The  obliging  young  mistress  of  the 
mansion  gathered  a  bouquet  for  me  from  the  garden,  when  I  was 
ready  to  leave,  and  followed  me  to  the  gate  before  she  said  her 
adieu.  God  bless  her,  and  the  two  little  buds  so  like  her,  just  be- 
ginning to  unfold  in  the  light  of  her  frank,  good-natured  counte- 
nance. 

On  the  way  back  from  Chartery  to  Stratford,  I  saw  an  ale-house 
with  a  sign  quite  in  the  style  of  the  olden  time.  Over  it  was  a 
rude  painting  of  a  gate,  with  this -inscription  on  the  four  hori- 
zontal boards  : 

This  gate  hangs  high; 
It  hinders  none  ; 
■*  Refresh  and  paj', 

Then  travel  on. 

A  conceit  like  this  was  very  common  with  the  inn-keepers  in  Eng- 
land a  hundred  years  ago  or  inore  ;  and  if  you  travel  off  the  track 
of  the  railways,  among  the  little  obscure  villages,  you  will  see  many 
traces  of  such  taste,  %hicJi  have  remained  undisturbed  until  the 
present  day,  notwithstanding  the  prevalence  in  that  country  of  a 
higher  degree  of  refinement. 

A  visit  to  the  estate  of  the  Lucy  family,  and  a  view  of  the  beau- 
tiful park  where  one  Will  Shakspeare,  in  a  freak  of  boyhood,  once 
killed  a  deer,  interested  me  not  a  little.  Half  a  score  of  dogs, 
belonging  to  the  present  proprietor,  welcomed  me  to  the  place,  and 
a  couple  of  deer,  fine  fellows,  stood  in  the  edge  of  the  park,  look- 
ing at  me,  for  alt  the  world,  as  if  they  would  say,  "  Yes,  sir,  we 
are  the  lineal  descendants  of  the  tine  fellow^  that  Will  slew." 

Just  before  I  left  Stratford,  I  took  a  long  stroll  on  the  banks  of 
the  Avon.  Fine  willow  trees  grow  on  either  side  of  the  stream. 
A  company  of  merry  boys  were  trying  their  luck  with  hooks  and 
lines  along  the  banks,  the  cunning  fish  serving  them,  for  the  most 
part,  I  thought,  much  as  they  used  to  serve  me  when  I  tried  to 


22  HOODWINKING  THE   PIGEONS. 

coax  them  out  of  the  "  Great  Brook,"  that  is,  they  gave  the  young 
anglers  a  wide  berth.  A  cane  which  I  cut  from  the  bank  of  the 
Avon  is  one  of  the  choicest  mementoes  which  I  brought  away  with 
me  from  mv  fatherland. 


HOODWINKING  THE  PIGEONS. 

PIGEONS  are  much  more  injurious  to  the  gardener  and  farmer 
than  crows,  or  any  other  of  the  feathered  animals.  It  is  said 
that  each  pigeon  eats  its  own  weight  of  food  in  a  day,  and  that 
principally  of  a  vegetable  nature.  A  new-sown  field  of  barley  or 
peas  is  therefore  a  glorious  treat,  and  will  be  made  short  work  of 
by  a  flock.  The  boys  and  farm  lads  of  Sussex,  England,  follow  a 
strange  plan  of  thinning  flocks  of  marauding  pigeons.  Going  to 
a  garden  or  field  likely  to  be  frequented  by  these  animals  for  the 
sake  of  plunder,  they  stick  into  the  ground  small  pieces  of  paper, 
twirled  into  the  shape  of  a  funnel,  the  pointed  end  being  down- 
most.  Into  each  of  these  paper  funnels  the  cruel  fellows  place  a 
single  pea. 

The  boys  having  left  the  ground,  the  pigeons  soon  arrive,  and 
commence  looking  about  for  food  ;  and,  seeing  peas  ready,  as 
they  imagine,  for  the  picking  up,  they  pop  their  head  into  the 
funnel,  which,  sticking  to  them,  they  lift  up,  and  immediately 
mount  into  the  air,  as  if  with  a  night-cap  drawn  over  their  eyes. 
Under  such  hapless  circumstances,  they  soar  aloft,  in  a  perfectly 
straight  line  to  the  zenith,  until  lost  to  the  eye  of  the  beholder 
in  the  clouds.  How  far  the  poor  creatures  thus  proceed  into  the 
heights  of  the  atmosphere,  it  is  impossible  to^onjecture.  It  is 
certain  they  continue  their  flight  till  nature  is  exhausted  within 
them,  and  death  relieves  them  from  their  misery.  Down  they 
then  sink  through  the  yielding  air,  like  a  bullet ;  and  so  straight 
upward  has  been  their  course,  that  they  generally  fall  within  a  few 
feet  of  the  spot  whence  they  took  their  flight. 


WONDERS    OF  THE  OCEAN. 


23 


WONDERS  OF  THE  OCEAK 


WHAT  myriads  of  wonderful  things  there  are  in  and  about  the 
ocean  !  I  think  the  animals  and  plants  properly  belonging  to 
the  sea  are,  on  the  whole,  much  more  curious  than  those  of  the  land. 
Let  us  take  an  imaginary  stroll  upon  the  sea-shore.  Listen  now  to 
the  endless  roar  of  the  ocean  waves.  Be  the  surface  of  the  water 
ever  so  smooth,  these  billows  are  breaking  against  the  coast.  Take 
care  that  you  don't  get  completely  drenched  by  the  breakers.  They 
are  not  famed  for  their  politeness.  Seldom  have  they  been  known 
to  forward  a  card  in  advance  of  their  visit.  More  than  once,  as  I 
have  been  standing  on  the  shore,  lost,  for  the  moment,  in  admira- 
tion of  old  ocean's  music,  a  wave  higher  than  the  rest,  has  waked 
me  up  completely  by  drenching  me  from  head  to  foot.  I  don't 
suppose  the  breakers  ever  laugh.  Indeed  they  seem  rather  to  sigh 
and  moan.  But  if  they  could  laugh,  I  know  they  would,  when 
they  succeed  in  wetting  a  poor  fellow  after  this  sort. 

Some  of  the  vegetables  we  find  about  the  sea-shore  are  well 


24 


WONDERS   OF  THE   OCEAN. 


worth  our  attention.     There  is  the  pretty  sea  convolvulus,  for  in- 
stance. 


THE    SEA    CON  VOLVULUS. 


THE    IRISH    MOSS. 


This  plant  £^rows  in  a  sandy  situation,  near  the  sea,  so  near  that 
its  flower  is  kissed  by  the  spray  of  the  waves.  It  is  one  of  the 
loveliest  plants  of  the  beach.  I  often  saw  it  on  the  coast  of  Eng- 
land, and  it  is  found,  I  believe,  on  our  own  shores.  Its  flower  is 
of  a  pink  color,  with  delicate  yellow  plaits.  This  plant  is  a  sister 
of  the  beautiful  morning  glory  which  so  lovingly  blooms  near  our 
houses.     Its  botanical  name  is  the  Convolvulus  Soldanella. 

There  are  many  diff'erent  sea-weeds  washed  ashore  by  the  waves, 
which  are  interesting.  Among  these  is  the  Irish  moss.  This  va- 
riety of  sea-weed  has  none  of  the^npleasant  odor  which  attaches 
to  the  family  in  general  when  they  are  washed  upon  the*  beach. 
It  is  called  the  Irish  moss,  because  in  Ireland  the  people  often  mafce 
a  jelly  of  it,  and  use  it  for  food.  Clusters  of  this  tough,  but  flexible 
sea-weed,  with  its  fringed  and  curled  edges,  may  often  be  seen, 
lying  on  the  beach,  in  crisped  and  bleached  masses,  far  above  the 
ordinary  rise  of  the  waves.  Unless  I  greatly  mistake,  the  Irish 
moss  is  sometimes  used  for  medicine  in  this  countrv.     I  think,  in- 


WONDERS   OF   THE   OCEAN.  25 

deed,  I  may  safely  say  so,  for  there  are  not  many  plants  in  the  land 
which  have  not  been  honored,  first  or  last,  by  being  given  to  in- 
valids. Of  one  thing  I  am  sure  :  some  of  our  ladies  make  a  kind 
of  jelly  of  it,  which  they  serve  up  in  the  shape  of  hlanc  mange^  more 
properly,  though  less  commonly  spelled  hlanc  manger^  the  English 
of  which  is  white  food. 


THE    SEA    LACK". 


Another  sea-weed,  found  in  great  abundance  on  some  of  our 
coasts,  is  called  the  sea  lace.  It  is  a  cord-like  plant,  rather  slimy 
and  very  tough,  which  loves  to  entwine  itself  about  rocks  and 
stones.  Thirty  or  forty  of  the  cords  frequently  spring  from  a  single 
root.  When  it  is  dry,  it  is  strong  enough,  almost,  for  a  shoe-string. 
Fishermen  sometimes  use  it  for  lines.  It  bears  the  name,  in  Eng- 
land, of  the  dead  man's  rope^  because  it  has  often  been  known  to 
prove  fatal  to  the  poor  swimmer.  He  has  breasted  the  waters 
in  the  quiet,  land-locked  bay,  in  fearless  pleasure,  little  dreaming 
that  its  entangling  cords  should  wind  about  him  so  fast  that  all 
efforts  to  break  the  coil  would  be  useless.  Yes  !  these  ropes  have 
wound  round  many  a  dying  man,  and,  doubtless,  often  awaken 
touching  regrets  and  heart-rending  memories  to  the  wanderers  on 
the  shore.  In  bays  where  the  bottom  is  sandy  or  muddy,  the  plant 
increases  to  such  a  degree,  that  it  seriously  impedes  the  course  of 
vessels.  It  is  sometimes  forty  feet  long.  When  young,  it  is  thickly 
clothed  with  slender  threads,  which  disappear  entirely  as  it  becomes 
older. 

VOL.  V.  2  JY 


26 


THE   KING-HILL. 


THE  KING-HILL. 


BY   J.    P.    M'CORD. 


HE  king-liiL       What  is  that,  1  wonder."     It  is 
no  particular  elevation  oi  land  so  named.     Nor 
is  it  a  place  where  a  king  has  put  seed  in  the 
ground,  or  a  hill  from  which  a  king  is  expected 
to   be  produced,  in  the  manner   of  a  vegetable.      For, 
though  kings  sometimes  suggest  the  idea  of  preen  pro- 
ductions, yet,  as  far  as  I  know,  they  never  grow  on  vines 
or  stalks. 

"  What,  then,  can  you  mean  by  a  king-hill  ?"  I  will  tell  you. 
You  know,  without  being  told,  that  a  king  suggests  the  idea  of 
superiority.  He  is  greater  than  other  people,  somehow.  So,  a  hill 
of  corn,  or  of  beans,  in  which  a  large  number  of  seeds  have  been 
planted,  has  some  degree  of  eminence  about  it.     It  is  a  king-hill. 

In  my  native  place  it  was  the  custom,  m  planting  time,  for  the 
little  folks  to  go  before  the  men  in  the  field,  and  drop  the  corn 
for  them  to  cover.  We  were  instructed  to  put  in  each  hill  not  less 
than  three  grains,  and  no  more  than  five.  Once  in  a  while,  how- 
ever, when  we  were  uncommonly  smart,  and  had  got  considerably 
in  advance  of  the  laborers,  we  would  deposit  a  handful  or  two  in  a 
place,  and  cover  them  so  carefully  that  nothing  amiss  could  be  dis- 
covered. Such  we  used  to  call  king-hills.  In  due  time,  of  course, 
a  plenty  of  blades  made  their  appearance,  and  told  plainly  enough 
what  sort  of  game  we  had  been  playing. 

A  boy  that  I  have  heard  of,  was  sent  by  his  father  to  a  field 
planted  with  corn,  to  stick  a  quantity  of  pumpkin  seeds  in  the  hills. 
He  was  an  energetic,  driving  fellow,  it  would  seem.  To  stop  at 
every  other  hill,  and  put  in  a  seed  or  two  at  a  time,  was  a  process 


A   THOUGHTFUL   BOY.  .  27 


altogether  too  slow  for  him.  So  he  went  to  an  old  stump,  which 
happened  to  be  there  for  his  special  accommodation,  a.pparently, 
and  threw  into  the  cavity  of  it  a  good  part  of  the  seeds,  and  cov- 
ered them  nicely  with  dirt.  He  could  tell  his  father,  of  course,  in 
reply  to  any  questions,  that  he  had  planted  them. 

When  hoeing-time  came,  the  pumpkin  vines  were  rather  scarce. 
The  old  gentleman  wondered  at  the  circumstance  a  good  deal. 
Could  the  seed  have  been  so  very  poor  ?  He  discovered  a  certain 
stump,  at  length,  with  quite  a  remarkable  appearance.  A  profu- 
sion of  vines  were  crowding  out  of  its  top,  like  plants  in  a  vase. 
"  Can  you  tell,  son,  what  is  growing  in  that  stump  ?"  said  he.  The 
boy's  curiosity  was  excited  at  once.  He  walked  around  the  stump, 
and  examined  the  plant  criticall}'',  brushing  open  the  leaves,  ob- 
serving their  form  and  size,  and  rubbing  them  between  his  fingers 
to  get  their  odor.  He  seemed  at  last  to  have  satisfied  his  mind. 
"  I  guess,  father,"  said  he,  "  it  is  egrimonyP  That  reply,  the  story 
goes,  saved  his  back  from  a  thrashing.  The  father  judged,  prob- 
ably, that  such  opening  buds  of  genius  ought  to  be  fostered  and 
brought  to  maturity,  to  astonish  the  world  some  day. 

It  is  no  easy  matter,  please  to  notice  and  remember,  to  keep  mis- 
chief or  a  wrong  deed  concealed.  It  is  sure  to  come  to  light, 
some  way  or  other,  just  as  those  large  corn-hills  manifested  them- 
selves, in  the  natural  course  of  things. 

Observe,  also,  that  the  fruit  corresponds  to  the  seed.  From 
pumpkin-seed  comes — not  egrimony — but  pumpkins.  Corn  pro- 
duces corn,  and  wheat  produces  wheat.  Even  so  it  is  in  moral 
conduct.  Good  deeds  and  bad  deeds  bring  forth  their  proper  fruits, 
respectively.     "  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap." 


A  Thoughtful  Boy. — "  Mother,"  said  a  little  shaver,  the  other 
day,  "  I  know  what  I  would  do  if  I  were  at  sea,  and  the  men  were  all 
starving,  and  they  should  draw  lots  to  see  who  should  be  killed  and 
eaten,  and  if  it  should  be  me — I'd  jump  into  the  water."  "  But,"  said 
his  mother,  "  they  would  fish  you  up."  '*  No,"  said  he,  "  I  wouldn't 
bite  1" 


28 


WEBSTER  ON  HIS   FARM. 


-^^-    ■'W•r,.fiP'^1^:>- 


WEBSTER  ON  HIS  FARM. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER,  one  of  the  greatest  statesmen,  I  need  not 
inform  my  readers,  that  the  world  ever  produced,  was  born 
amid  the  charms  of  rustic  life.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  and  he 
himself  received  his  early  education  on  a  farm.  It  does  not  appear 
that  young  Daniel  was  particularly  attached  to  farming  as  a  pro- 
fession. Indeed,  if  all  the  stories  about  him  are  correct,  he  made  a 
better  scholar  than  farmer  in  his  early  days,  before  he  had  "  sowed 
his  wild  oats."  If  my  memory  serves  me  faithfully,  it  was  Daniel 
of  whom  they  tell  the  anecdote  about  the  hanging  of  a  certain 
scythe.  The  youngster's  scythe  was  hung  so  baYily,  it  seemed,  that 
he  could  not  mow  with  it  at  all.     "  Father,"  said  he,  "  I  wish  you 


A 


WEBSTER  ON  HIS  FARM.  29 

would  hang  my  scythe  better.  It  don't  work  well."  The  father 
did  as  he  was  requested.  But  still  Daniel  was  not  suited.  Several 
times  the  instrument  was  hung  over  again,  to  please  the  youthful 
mower,  until  the  old  gentleman  got  out  of  patience,  saying,  "  Hang 
the  scythe  to  suit  yourself,  Dan."  The  words  had  no  sooner  left 
the  elder  Webster's  mouth,  than  Daniel  coolly  walked  up  to  the 
large  tree  where  the  luncheon  was  kept,  and  hung  the  scythe  on 
one  of  its  branches,  remarking,  as  he  did  so,  "  Now  the  scythe  hangs 
to  suit  me."  From  this  anecdote  I  gather  two  items  of  intelligence 
respecting  young  Daniel :  first,  that  he  was  a  little  given  to  wit, 
and  secondly,  that  he  was  troubled  with  a  complaint  too  common 
among  boys,  called  laziness. 

But  in  after  life,  when  Daniel  Webster  became  a  great  orator  and 
statesman,  we  find  him  deeply  attached  to  the  country,  and  es- 
pecially to  that  humble  spot  where  he  was  born,  where  he  romped 
in  the  sunny  days  of  childhood,  and  where  he  laid  the  foundation 
for  his  future  fame.  The  home  of  his  boyhood  was  in  New  Hamp- 
shire. But  his  home  in  later  years  was  at  Marshfield,  in  Massa- 
chusetts. Here  he  had  a  fine  farm  ;  and  here  he  took  as  much 
pleasure  in  raising  corn  and  potatoes  as  he  did  in  pleading  a 
great  case  before  the  Supreme  Court,  or  making  an  eloquent  speech 
in  the  Senate  at  Washington.  To  my  mind,  reader,  one  of  the 
most  interesting  points  from  which  to  view  the  life  and  character 
of  great  men  is  amid  the  calm  and  unpretending  scenes  of  home. 
Webster  at  Marshfield,  interests  me  quite. as  deeply  as  Webster  at 
Washington.  The  portrait  of  him,  taken  in  his  plain  rustic  garb, 
but  a  short  time  before  his  death,  under  a  favorite  tree  on  his 
farm,  pleases  me  even  more  than  the  portraits  representing  him  in 
the  hall  of  legislation.  In  the  picture  at  the  head  of  this  article, 
you  see  the  man  as  he  appeared  in  his  every-day  life  as  a  farmer. 
Mr.  Lanman,  as  well  as  many  others  who  knew  him  well,  tells  us 
that  his  character  in  no  situation  appeared  to  greater  advantage 
than  when  he  was  among  his  cows  and  sheep  at  Marshfield.  Then 
he  unbent  himself,  and  gave  play  to  his  native  humor,  without  re- 
straint. 

An  incident,  trivial  in  itself,  has  recently  come  to  my  knowledge, 
which  illustrates  the  irood  nature  of  Daniel  and  his  kindness  to 


30  WEBSTER  ON  HIS  FAEM. 

dumb  beasts,  when  a  boy.  I  will  relate  it  to  you.  It  is  one  among 
many  proofs  I  might  give  you  that  noble  minds  are  above  being 
cruel  and  unfeeling  towards  the  lower  animals.  It  would  appear 
that  a  certain  woodchuck  had  made  his  appearance  on  the  prem- 
ises of  the  Webster  family,  when  Ezekiel,  Daniel's  brother,  set  a 
steel  trap  for  the  fellow,  and  caught  him.  The  captor  proposed  at 
once  to  kill  the  animal,  and  put  an  end  to  his  trials.  Daniel 
wished  to  let  the  prisoner  go.  At  this  juncture,  the  father  of  the 
boys  proposed  that  his  sons  should  each  of  them  make  a  plea  on 
the  question,  and  that  he  would  act  as  judge.  The  proposal  suited 
the  boys.  Ezekiel  urged  the  execution  of  the  prisoner,  pleading 
that  he  was  generally  mischievous,  and  that  if  he  was  allowed  to 
escape,  he  would  unquestionably  eat  up  ever  so  many  cabbages 
and  crookneck  squashes.  Daniel  took  up  on  the  other  side.  The 
argument  of  his  brother  had  made  a  sensible  impression  upon  the 
judge,  but  the  tide  was  soon  turned  the  other  way.  The  counsel 
for  the  prisoner  said,  God  had  made  the  woodchuck  ;  he  made  him 
to  live,  to  enjoy  the  bright  sunlight,  the  pure  air,  the  free  fields 
and  woods.  God  had  not  made  him  or  anything  in  vain  ;  the 
woodchuck  had  as  much  right  to  life  as  any  other  hving  thing ; 
he  was  not  a  destructive  animal,  as  the  fox  and  the  wolf  were ;  he 
simply  ate  a  few  common  vegetables,  of  which  they  had  plenty,  and 
could  well  spare  a  part ;  he  destroyed  nothing  except  the  little  food 
he  needed  to  sustain  his  life  ;  and  that  little  food  was  as  sweet  to 
him  as  was  to  them  the  food  upon  his  mother's  table.  God  fur- 
nished their  own  food  ;  he  gave  them  all  they  possessed  ;  and 
would  they  not  spare  a  little  for  the  dumb  creature,  who  really  had 
as  much  right  to  his  small  share  of  God's  bounty  as  they  them- 
selves had  to  their  portion  ?  Yea,  more,  the  animal  had  never 
violated  the  laws  of  his  nature  or  the  laws  of  God,  as  man  often 
did ;  but  strictly  followed  the  simple,  harmless  instincts  he  had  re- 
ceived from  the  hand  of  the  Creator  of  all  things.  Created  by 
God's  hand,  he  had  a  right,  a  right  from  God,  to  life,  to  food,  to 
liberty  ;  and  they  had  no  right  to  deprive  him  of  either.  During 
this  appeal  the  tears  had  started  to  the  old  man's  eyes,  and  were 
fast  running  down  his  sun-burnt  cheeks  :  every  feeling  of  a  father's 
heart   was    stirred    within    him ;    his   pity    and    sympathy    were 


WEBSTER   ON   HIS   FARM.  31 

awakened  by  the  eloquent  words  of  compassion,  and  the  strong 
appeal  for  mercy ;  and  forgetting  the  judge  in  the  man  and  fa- 
ther, he  sprang  from  his  chair,  while  Daniel  was  in  the  midst  of 
his  argument,  without  thinking  he  had  already  w^on  his  case,  and 
turning  to  his  older  son,  dashing  the  tears  from  his  eyes,  exclaimed, 
"  Zeke,  Zeke,  you  let  that  woodchuck  go  /" 

Mr.  Webster  had  a  very  rustic  appearance,  when  he  was  at  home 
on  his  farm,  as  yon  see  by  the  picture.  A  very  funny  circumstance 
once  grew  out  of  this  fact.  He  was  tramping  over  the  salt  meadows 
shooting  ducks,  in  company  with  one  Seth  Peterson.  Two  young 
fops  from  Boston,  with  more  conceit  than  brains,  were  following 
the  same  sport,  and  Mr.  Webster  met  them  just  as  they  were  dis- 
cussing the  best  method  of  getting  across  a  wet  spot  in  the 
meadow.  Judging  from  his  rude  aspect  that  he  was  some  stout 
old  farmer,  they  hailed  him:  "Hallo,  old  fellow!"  "Hallo!" 
shouted  Mr.  Webster,  in  reply.  "  Won't  you  come  and  carry  us 
over  this  wet  spot  on  your  back  ?"  "  O,  yes."  So  he  approached 
them,  and  carried  them  one  after  the  other  over  the  bog,  on  his 
back.  The  verdant  youths  then  offered  him  a  quarter  of  a  dollar 
for  his  trouble,  and  asked  :  "  Is  old  Webster  at  home  ?  We  have 
had  poor  luck  in  shooting,  and  we  will  just  give  the  old  fellow  a 
call."  "  Mr.  Webster  is  not  at  home  now  ;  but  he  will  be  as  soon 
as  /  can  walk  to  the  house ;  and  then,  young  gentlemen,  I  shall 
be  glad  to  see  you  at  my  table  to  dinner,"  continued  Mr.  Webster, 
with  a  tone  and  manner  which  made  the  poor  young  men  shrink 
into  themselves  for  shame.  They  were  very  glad  to  hurry  toward 
Boston,  without  visiting  the  Webster  mansion.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
this  incident  taught  them  to  speak  of  men  with  proper  respect, 
and  to  act  like  gentlemen  even  toward  plainly  and  coarsely  dressed 
strangers.  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  but  they  would  have  sold 
.themselves  at  least  fifty  per  cent,  cheaper  after  this  interview  witli 
Mr.  AVebster,  than  they  would  have  been  inclined  to  do  before 
that. 

This  great  orator  and  statesman  departed  this  life  on  the  morning 
of  the  24th  day  of  October,  1852.  His  last  words  were,  '•'  I  still 
UveP  An  immense  concourse  of  persons  attended  his  funeral  at 
Marshfield,  where  he  was  buried  on  his  own  estate,  in  a  plain,  sim- 


32 


THE  LEDGER. 


THE    WEBSTER    TOMB. 

pie  tomb,  erected  under  his  own  direction  some  years  since.  It 
stands  on  the  summit  of  a  hill.  It  is  built  of  granite.  The  floor 
is  six  feet  below  the  surface,  and  its  summit  rises  six  feet  above, 
like  a  mound.     Its  only  inscription  is  the  name  of  its  occupant : 

DANIEL    WEBSTER. 


THE  LEDGER. 

HOW  admirably  is  brought  out  in. the  following  lines,  the  great 
■  truth  that  the  merchant  is  to  give  account  at  the  bar  of  God 
for  the  manner  in  which  he  conducts  his  trade.  I  copy  them  from 
a  paper  conducted  by  young  ladies,  and  published  in  Minesota : 


Tare  and  tret, 

Gross  aud  net, 
Box  and  hogshead,  dry  and  wet : 

Ready  made, 

Of  every  grade. 
Wholesale,  retail,  will  you  trade  ? 

Goods  for  sale, 

Roll  or  bale, 
Ell  or  quarter,  yard  or  nail : 

Every  dye. 

Will  you  buy  ? 
None  can  Bell  aa  cheap  as  1 1 


Thus  each  day 

Wears  away, 
Aud  liis  hair  is  turning  gray  1 

O'er  his  books 

He  uightly  looks, 
Counts  his  gaius  and  bolts  his  locks. 

By  and  by 

He  will  die — 
But  the  Ledger  book  on  high 

Shall  unfold 

How  he  sold, 
How  he  got  and  used  his  gold  I 


THE   SOUNDS   OF   LITTLE   FEET.  83 


THE  SOUNDS  OF  LITTLE  FEET. 


BY    W^.    EDWARD    KXOWLES. 


From  my  window  and  at  evening, 

Hear  I  sounds  of  little  feet, 
Up  and  down  the  frosted  pavement, 

Up  and  down  the  crowded  street. 
All  day  long,  in  countless  numbers, 

They  are  passing  to  and  fro ; 
And  the  footsteps  up  the  pavement, 

Echo  to  those  heard  below. 

Merry  shouts,  that  end  in  laughter, 

Mingle  with  the  tread  of  feet — 
Mingle  with  the  louder  echoes 

Of  the  toilers  in  the  street. 
Singing  as  they  pass  my  window, 

Singing  sweetly  as  they  go ; 
Leaving  foot-prints  on  the  pavement. 

Foot-prints  on  the  sands  of  snow. 

And  I  love  to  hear  their  footsteps, 

Mingled  sounds  of  little  feet ; 
Up  and  down  the  frosted  pavement. 

Up  and  down  the  crowded  street ; 
Hear  them  pass  from  night  till  morning, 

Pass  my  window,  to  and  fro ; 
Hear  the  footsteps  up  the  pavement. 

Echo  to  those  heard  below. 

As  I  listened  to  the  echoes, 

From  the  window  of  my  room, 
Twilight  nestled  at  the  casement, 

Bringing  down  a  gorgeous  gloom. 
With  it  came  a  gloomy  vision. 

Vision  of  their  riper  years ; 
And  seen  through  the  veil  of  sorrows. 

Through  the  medium  of  tears. 

VOL.  V.  2*  JY 


84  THE   SOUNDS   OF   LITTLE   FEET. 

Other  foot-prints  saw  I  added 

To  the  smaller  foot-prints  then, 
Foot-prints  that  were  not  of  children, 

But  were  footsteps  made  by  men. 
In  my  dream  years  had  been  numbered, 

As  they  oft  have  been  before ; 
And  the  child  who  passed  my  window. 

Was  a  happy  child  no  more. 

Sterner  cares  and  sterner  duties. 

Came  upon  the  numbered  years, 
'Till  his  joys  were  sadly  mingled 

With  his  anxious  hopes  and  fears, 
And  his  feet  were  weak  and  trembling, 

Like  the  measure  of  my  rhyme, 
And  eclipsed  by  swifter  footsteps. 

And  outmarched  by  those  of  time. 

Then  again  beneath  my  window, 

Heard  J  sounds  of  little  feet, 
Passing  up  and  down  the  pavement, 

Up  and  down  the  crowded  street. 
All  day  long  they  had  been  passing, 

Quickly  passing  to  and  fro  ; 
Leaving  foot-prints  on  the  pavement, 

Foot-prints  on  the  sands  of  snow. 


All  the  time  that  I'd  been  dreaming. 

They  were  passing  by  the  same ; 
And  to  pass  in  joy  the  moments, 

Seemed  their  only  end  and  aim — 
Passing  up  and  down  the  pavement. 

Passing  quickly  to  and  fro  ; 
Leaving  foot-prints  there  behind  then> 

Foot-prints  on  the  sands  of  snow 


FROGS   AKD   FROG   MINES. 


35 


FEOGS  AND  FROG  MINES. 


HOPE  the  reader  will  not   laugh  so  immoderately  as 

to   occasion    the    loss    of  his  buttons,   if  I  tell   him 

something  about  a  mine  of  frogs.     It  appears  to  be 

a  matter  of  history  that  frogs  can  live  for  centuries  in 

'\    the  bosom  of  the  earth,  and  that  they  have  been  found  in 

the  very  heart  of  a  block  of  marble.     That  being  the  case, 

^      I  don't  see  any  impropriety  in  the  term /ror/-m^;^(?  which  I 

have  taken  it  into  my  head  to  employ.     But,  be  that  as  it  may, 

you  must  have  some  of  the  facts  respecting  the  longevity  of  the 

frog  and  toad  tribes  : 

There  are  several  accounts  in  natural  history  of  toads  being  found 
in  the  hearts  of  trees,  and  in  solid  rocks,  wholly  enclosed  and  shut 
up  from  the  air  and  all  appearance  of  food,  and  being  taken  alive 
out  of  such  situations.  In  the  Memoirs  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences 
there  is  an  account,  that,  in  the  year  1*731,  a  toad  was  found  in  the 
heart  of  an  old  oak,  near  Nantz,  without  any  visible  entrance  to  its 
habitation.  From  the  size  of  the  tree,  it  w^as  concluded  that  the 
toad  must  have  been  confined  in  that  situation  at  least  eighty  or  a 
hundred  years. 

We  have  several  instances  in  Vermont  equally  extraordinary. 
At  Windsor,  in  September,  1790,  a  living  frog  was  dug  up  at  the 
depth  of  nine  feet  from  the  surface  of  the  earth.  The  place  where 
this  frog  was  found,  was  about  half  a  mile  from  the  river,  on  the 
interval  lands,  which  are  annually  overflowed  by  its  waters. 

At  Castleton,  in  the  year  1779,  the  inhabitants  were  engaged  in 
building  a  fort  near  the  centre  of  the  town.  Digging  into  the  earth 
five  or  six  feet  below  the  surface,  they  found  many  frogs,  appa- 
rently inactive,  and  supposed  to  be  dead.  Being  exposed  to  the 
air,  animation  soon  appeared,  and  they  were  found  to  be  alive  and 
healthy.  Upon  viewing  the  spot,  it  did  not  appear  that  it  had  ever 
been  overflowed  with  water,  but  it  abounded  with  springs. 


36  THE   CLERGYMAN  AND   HIS   HORSE. 

A  more  remarkable  instance  was  at  Burlington.  In  the  year 
1*788,  Samuel  Lane  was  digging  a  well  near  his  house.  At  the 
depth  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  from  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the 
laborers  threw  out  with  their  shovels^  something  which  they  sus- 
pected to  be  ground-nuts,  or  stones  covered  with  earth.  Upon 
examining  these  appearances,  they  were  found  to  be  frogs,  towhich 
the  earth  everywhere  adhered.  The  examination  was  then  made 
of  the  earth  in  the  well  where  they  were  digging.  A  large  number 
of  frogs  were  found  covered  with  the  earth,  and  so  numerous  that 
several  of  them  were  cut  in  pieces  by  the  spades  of  the  workmen. 
Being  exposed  to  the  air,  they  soon  became  active  ;  but,  unable  to 
endure  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun,  the  most  of  them  perished.  From 
the  depth  of  earth  with  which  these  frogs  were  covered,  it  cannot 
be  doubted  but  that  they  must  have  been  covered  over  in  the  earth 
for  centuries.  The  appearances  denote  that  the  place  whence  these 
frogs  were  taken,  was  once  the  bottom  of  a  channel  or  lake,  formed 
by  the  waters  of  Onion  river.  In  digging  the  same  well,  at  the 
depth  of  forty-one  feet  and  a  half  from  the  surface,  the  workmen 
found. the  body  of  a  tree  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  in  diameter, 
partly  rotten,  but  the  greater  part  sound.  The  probability  is,  that 
both  the  tree  and  the  frogs  were  once  at  the  bottom  of  the  channel 
of  the  river  or  lake  ;  that  the  waters  of  Onion  river,  constantly 
bringing  down  large  quantities  of  earth,  gradually  raised  the  bot- 
tom ;  that  by  the  constant  increase  of  earth  and  water,  the  water 
was  forced  over  its  bounds,  forming  for  itself  a  new  channel  or  pas- 
sage  in  its  descent  into  Lake  Champlain. 


The  Clergyman  and  his  Horse. — A  clergyman  lost  his  horse 
one  Saturday  evening.  After  hunting,  in  company  with  a  boy,  un- 
til midnight,  he  gave  up  in  despair.  The  next  day,  somewhat  de- 
jected at  his  loss,  he  went  into  the  pulpit  and  took  for  his  text  the 
passage  from  Job,  "  0  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find  him  !"  The 
boy,  who  had  just  come  in,  supposing  the  horse  was  the  burden  of 
thought,  cried  out,  "  I  know  where  he  is.  He's  in  Deacon  Smith's 
barn." 


\ 


^([y~J<p^U 


rORTRAIT    OF   WASHINGTON   IR\TNG. 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


S 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


jMONG  the  literary  writers  of  America,  no  name  stands 
r<  higher  than  that  of  Washington  Irving.  He  has 
Q  accomplished  a  great  deal  for  our  national  literature. 
'f"  Wherever  I  went  in  Europe,  when  our  authors  were 
the  theme  of  conversation,  Irving's  name  was  mentioned 
with  the  profoundest  respect.  Mine  host  at  Stratford-on- 
Avon,  as  I  have  stated  in  another  place,  was  so  proud  of  having 
once  entertained  Washington  Irving  at  his  house,  that  he  preserved 
the  tongs  and  poker  of  his  distinguished  guest,  as  notable  curiosi- 
ties. Irving  was  born  in  the  city  of  Xew  York  in  the  year  1783. 
After  receiving  an  ordinary  education,  he  commenced  the  study  of 
law.  At  this  time  he  was  about  sixteen  years  old.  Only  some 
four  years  later,  he  contributed  a  series  of  papers  to  a  paper  called 
the  "  Morning  Chronicle."  These  papers  attracted  a  good  deal  of 
notice  at  the  time,  and  were  copied  extensively  in  different  parts 
of  the  country.  Some  years  afterwards,  they  were  collected  and 
published  without  the  sanction  of  the  author. 

In  1804,  on  account  of  ill  health,  he  visited  Europe.  He  landed 
at  Bordeaux,  from  which  place  he  went  to  Genoa,  where  he  re- 
mained some  two  months.  Then  he  went  to  Sicily,  made  the  tour 
of  the  island,  crossed  from  Palermo  to  Xaples,  and  passed  through 
Italy.  At  Rome,  he  met  Washington  Allston,  the  artist,  who 
strongly  urged  him  to  become  a  painter.  From  Italy,  he  passed 
over  the  Alps  into  Switzerland,  and  after  spending  a  short  time 
amid  the  sublime  scenery  of  that  country,  he  visited  Paris,  where 
he  remained  several  months.  He  then  went  to  Holland,  whence 
he  embarked  for  England,  where  he  spent  about  three  months. 
In  March,  1806,  he  returned  to  New  York,  completely  restored  in 
health.  Though  he  resumed  the  study  of  law,  and  was  admitted 
to  the  bar,  it  does  not  appear  that  he  ever  practiced. 

Not  long  after  his  return  home,  we  find  him  a  prominent  writer 


'lo 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


in  a  periodical  called  "  Salmagundi,"  the  first  number  of  which 
appeared  in  January,  1807,  and  the  last  in  January,  1808.  In  De- 
cember of  the  following  year,  he  published  that  humorous  work 
which  has  given  him  such  great  reputation,  called  "  Knickerbock- 
er's History  of  New  York."  During  the  second  war  with  Great 
Britain,  he  edited  the  "  Analectic  Magazine." 

In  1815,  he  again  went  abroad.  In  1818,  the  papers  of  the 
"  Sketch  Book"  were  forwarded  to  New  York,  and  published. 
Afterwards  they  were  published  in  a  volume  in  London,  by  John 
Miller,  who  failed  soon  after,  and  the  copyright  was  transferred  to 
Mr.  Murray.  The  latter  gentleman  gave  about  .one  thousand  dol- 
lars for  the  copyright ;  but  its  success  greatly  surpassed  his  expec- 
tations, and  he  sent  Mr.  Irving,  of  his  own  accord,  one  thousand 
dollars  in  addition.  After  a  residence  of  some  five  years  in  Eng- 
land, Mr.  Irving  removed  to  Paris.  This  was  in  August,  1820. 
Here  he  remained  till  July  of  the  following  year,  when  he  returned 
to  England.  His  "  Bracebridge  Hall"  was  published  both  in  Lon- 
don and  New  York  in  May,  1822.  Then  followed  a  tour  on  the 
continent.  In  May,  1824,  his  "Tales  of  a  Traveler"  appeared. 
In  August  of  the  same  year  he  went  to  Paris,  and  in  the  autumn 
of  1825  visited  the  south  of  France,  spending  part  of  the  winter 
at  Bordeaux.  In  February,  1826,  he  left  that  city  for  Madrid, 
where  he  remained  tw^o  years.  Here  he  wrote  the  "  Life  of  Co- 
lumbus," which  appeared  in  1828.  In  the  spring  of  1828,  he  left 
Madrid  on  a  tour  to  the  southern  part  of  Spain.  Then  followed 
bis  "  Conquest  of  Granada."  In  1832,  "  Alhambra"  was  published. 
In  July  he  went  to  England,  being  appointed  secretary  of  legation 
to  Mr.  M'Lane,  at  that  time  our  minister  at  London. 

In  1831,  the  Univei-sity  of  Oxford,  England,  conferred  on  Mr. 
Irving  the  honorary  degree  of  LL.D.  In  the  spring  of  1832,  he 
returned  to  New  York,  after  an  absence  of  seventeen  years.  His 
return  was  greeted  with  the  warmest  enthusiasm.  A  public  dinner 
was  given  to  him,  at  which  Chancellor  Kent  presided.  After  his 
return,  the  first  thing  which  he  published  was  an  account  of  a 
"  Tour  on  the  Prairies."  Then  came  "  Legends  of  the  Conquest 
of  Spain,"  "  Astoria,"  and  the  "  Adventures  of  Captain  Bonneville." 
In  1839,  he  entered  into  an  engagement  with  the  proprietors  of  the 


THE   EICH   MAN  ANT)  THE   BEGQAE. 


"Knickerbocker  Magazine,"  to  furnish  monthly  articles  for  that 
periodical. 

In  April,  1842,  he  went  again  to  Spain,  this  time  in  the  capacity 
of  minister  from  our  government.  At  the  termination  of  his  official 
duties,  in  the  summer  of  1846,  he  returned  to  his  native  land,  and 
in  1848  commenced  the  publication  of  a  revised  edition  of  his 
entire  works,  which  had  then  for  some  time  been  out  of  print. 
In  1849,  he  published  "  Oliver  Goldsmith"  and  "  Mahomet  and  his 
Successors." 

He  has  a  charming  place  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Hudson, 
called  "  Snnnyside."  It  is  siVaated  but  a  few  minutes'  walk  from 
my  own  residence.  He  is  a  most  genial,  warm-hearted,  benevolent 
man — so  much  so,  that  all  who  make  him  a  call  carry  away  with 
them  the  happiest  recollections  of  the  visit.  He  reminds  me,  as  he 
welcomes  his  many  visitors,  of  the  picture  which  he  himself  has 
given  of  the  cordial  manner  in  which  Sir  Walter  Scott  received 
his  guests  at  Abbotsford.  His  works  will  be  read  with  interest  as 
long  as  our  language  lasts.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  purer 
and  more  nervous  and  elegant  style  in  the  whole  range  of  English 
literature. 


THE  EICH  MAN  AND  THE  BEGGAR 

A  RICH  man  was  passing  along  the  road  in  a  splendid  coach, 
when  a  cur  sallied  out,  snarling,  and  barking,  and  trying  to  stop 
his  horses  by  getting  before  them.  A  beggar  Avas  sitting  by  the 
load-side,  gnawing  a  bone,  and  apparently  half  famished,  while 
his  clothes  were  falling  from  him  in  rags.  The  cur  seeing  him 
thus  employed,  ran  towards  him,  and  fawned  at  his  feet. 

"  You  should  teach  your  dog  better  manners,"  said  the  rich 
man. 

"  He  is  not  mine,"  said  the  other. 

"  Why,  then,  does  he  bark  at  me,  and  fawn  on  you  ?" 

^^  DonH  you  see  I  have  got  a  hone  to  throio  awayP  replied  the 
beggar. 


1 42 


THE   EOBIN   WALTZ. 


THE  EOBIN  WALTZ. 


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44 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE   TALK. 


OUR    FRONTISPIECE. 


■? 


HE  Portrait  of  Mrs.  Newbould,  with  which  our  pa- 
trons are  presented  in  this  number,  is  engraved 
from  a  daguerreotype  by  Mr.  Augustus  Morand, 
drawn  on  wood  by  Mr.  Wallin,  of  this  city,  one 
of  the  most  accomplished  artists  in  the  Union,  and  engraved 
by  Mr.  Cox,  of  the  firm  of  Messrs.  Richardson  t!^  Cox.  The 
work  is  a  credit  to  all  concerned,  though  it  is  but  justice 
to  our  friend  and  associate  to  say,  that  the  countenance 
has  necessarily  lost  some  of  its  expression  by  being  dupli- 
cated and  reduplicated.  Are  you  aware,  my  young  friend, 
how  many  processes  must  be  gone  through  with,  before  a  printed 
portrait  is  produced  ?  First,  the  person  who  is  to  be  shown  up  be- 
fore the  public  must  sit  for  a  daguerreotype  likeness.  That  being 
obtained,  it  is  carefully  penciled  upon  the  wood  block,  that  having 
been  first  whitened  for  the  purpose.  Then  the  engraver,  following  the 
lines  on  the  wood,  performs  his  task.  Afterwards,  electrotype  or 
stereotype  casts  are  taken  from  the  engraving.  Then,  the  printer  takes 
these  casts,  and  from  them  produces  the  impressions  which  you  see  in 
the  magazine.  In  going  through  these  five  processes,  it  is  not  strange 
that  a  portrait  should  vary  a  little  from  the  meridian  of  truthfulness. 


AN    AMUSING    GAME. 

"  Come,  children,  don't  make  such  a  noise,"  said  Charlotte.  "  Mother 
has  got  a  headache  ;  let  us  all  sit  round  the  fire  and  have  a  game  of 
planting." 

"  Planting  !"  exclaimed  her  cousin  Willie,  a  laughter-loving  boy  of 
fourteen,  whose  very  hair  seemed  to  be  laughing  at  society  generally, 
in  its  curliness  and  impossibility  to  look  straight;  "planting!  what's 
that  ?    Do  you  mean  we  are  all  to  plant  our  feet  on  the  fender  ?" 


EDITOEIAL  TABLE   TALK.  45 

"  Not  exactly,"  replied  Charlotte  ;  "  but  if  you  will  all  come  and  sit 
down,  T  will  try  and  explain  it.  Now  Fanny,  suppose  I  say  to  you, '  If 
I  plant  my  face,  what  will  grow?'  you  must  name  some  flower,  or 
vegetable,  or  tree." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Fanny,  hesitatingly,  "  perhaps  a  72ose-gay." 

"  No.     Guess  again." 

"  Well,  then,  tulips"  (two  lips). 

"  Oh  !  yes,  now  T  see,"  said  Willie.  "  Sarah,  if  you  should  plant  me, 
what  should  T  grow  up  ?" 

"  A  terrible  bad  boy,  I'm  afraid." 

"Now  Miss  Sarah,  if  you  make  any  more  disparaging  remarks  upon 
this  individual,  you  will  be  immediately  sent  up-stairs  to  bed  !  Come 
girls,  what  should  I  grow  up  ?" 

"  I  know,"  said  Ellen.     "  Sweet  William." 

"That's  it,  my  little  darling,  and  if  I  should  plant  you,  you  would 
grow  up  Heart's  Ease,  wouldn't  you,  Nelly  ?  Come,  Sarah,  it's  your 
turn  now." 

"  "Well,"  said  Sarah,  "  if  I  plant  my  little  toe,  what  would  be  likely  to 
grow  1" 

"  A-corn  I  guess,"  replied  Charlotte. 

"Good!  That's /rs^  rcf/e,"  exclaimed  Willie.  "Now,  Charlotte, 
have  you  thought  of  another  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  I  plant  the  sun,  what  will  grow  ?" 

"  Four  o'clock,"  suggested  Willie. 

"No." 

"  Sun-flower  ?"  said  Sarah. 

"No." 

"  Well,  is  it  a  flower  we  are  all  familiar  with  ?" 

"Oh!  yes,  it  grows  almost  wild." 

While  the  children  are  trying  to  guess  the  name  of  the  flower,  will 
not  some  of  our  readers  send  us  their  ideas  on  the  subject,  and  pro- 
pound another  question  ?  s.  n. 

"  Maria"  is  informed  that  Uncle  Frank  likes  the  style  and  drift  of  her 
story,  but  is  a  little  fearful  that  it  will  be  too  lengthy  for  the  Cabinet. 


I  am  sorry,  dear  "Jennie,"  that  your  little  budget  of  agreeable  things 
came  too  late  by  a  day  or  two. 

The  Old  Ahherj  of  Foicre  is  a  capital  sketch,  as — I  may  say  without 
flattery  everything  that  comes  from  the  writer's  pen  is  sure  to  be.  It 
will  see  the  lijjht  in  the  next  number. 


46  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

NOTICES    OF    RECENT    PUBLICATIONS. 

1.  Hours  of  Life,  and  other  Poems — a  collection  of  poems  which 
would  do  honor  to  Mrs.  Hemans  or  Mrs.  Norton,  but  which  were  writ- 
ten by  one  of  our  own  countrywomen,  Mrs.  Sarah  H.  Whitman,  of 
Providence,  R.  I.  Everything  in  the  book  is  beautiful.  Some  of  the 
sonnets  are  as  sweet  and  charming  as  the  breath  of  an  orange  grove 
in  the  evening  twilight.     Published  by  G.  H.  Whitney. 

2.  Golden  Link;  or,  Poems  and  Tales  for  the  Foimir,  just  published 
by  Mr.  Scribner,  is  from  the  pen  of  our  correspondent  William  Oland 
Bourne.  I  need  hardly  say  more  than  this,  for  all  my  readers  know 
that  Mr.  Bourne  has  the  faculty  of  writing  very  fine  things  for  the  little 
folks.     The  book,  withal,  is  prettily  illustrated  and  bound. 

3.  Tanglewood  Tales — A  Wonder  Book.  Such  is  the  title  of  one  of 
Hawthorne's  last  volumes  for  the  young.  It  is  rich  in  material  for 
amusement  and  instruction,  and  cannot  fail  to  please  those  who  are 
looking  out  for  holiday  presents.  The  book  is  published  by  Ticknor, 
Reed,  &  Fields,  and  printed  by  George  C.  Rand.  By  the  way,  we  used 
to  think,  here  in  New  York,  that  wood  cuts  could  not  be  printed  well 
in  Boston.  But  Mr.  Rand,  I  perceive,  is  now  printing  cuts  in  a  manner 
which  W'Ould  not  disgrace  any  printer  on  the  continent — not  even  Mr. 
Torrey  himself  (and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal)  of  our  own  city. 

4.  Hoiv  to  Behave,is  another  attractive  little  volume  from  Mrs.  Man- 
ners, published  by  Evans  &  Brittan.     It  merits  universal  favor. 

5.  Similitudes  from  the  Ocean  and  the  Prairie.  This  is  a  charming 
little  volume  from  our  correspondent  Lucy  Larcom,  which  J.  P.  Jewett 
&  Co.  the  publishers,  have  prettily  embellished  and  printed. 

6.  Mr.  Charles  C.  Savage  has  recently  brought  out  a  large  octavo 
volume,  entitled.  Illustrated  Biography ;  or,  Memoirs  of  the  Great  and 
Good  of  all  Nations  and  all  Ti?nes,  edited  by  C.  C.  Savage.  It  is  illus- 
trated by  250  engravings,  and  contains  a  vast  amount  of  valuable  in- 
formation which  the  head  of  a  family,  in  search  of  reading  for  long 
winter  evenings,  might  chase  a  good  while  after,  in  another  direction, 
without  finding  it.  In  this  volume  we  have  condensed,  but  readable 
and  sketchy  biographies  of  a  multitude  of  men,  figuring  in  different  pe- 
riods of  the  world,  and  in  various  capacities — statesmen,  heroes,  phi- 
losophers, artists,  reformers,  clergymen,  poets,  philanthropists,  mechan- 
ics, navigators,  authors,  soldiers,  fcc. 

7.  Woodworth's  Youth's  Cabinet  for  1853,  in  two  volumes,  beauti- 
fully bound,  is  a  capital  thing  for  a  holiday  present  to  a  young  friend. 
So,  in  fact,  is  the  whole  series,  now  forming  four  elegant  volumes. 
Price  per  volume  75  cents,  postage  paid  to  any  part  of  the  Union. 


THE  puzzler's  deawer.  47 

THE   PUZZLEE'S   DRAWER 

THE    PRIZE    ENIGMA    IX    PROSE. 


BY    CLIFFORD    P.   M'CALLA,    OF    PHILADELPHIA,   PA. 


I  am  composed  of  41  letters. 

My  32,  33,  18,  18,  6,  was  an  eminent  Florentine  artist. 

My  15,  22,  2,  24,  3,  18,  25,  was  a  celebrated  Italian  physician  and 
naturalist. 

My  15,  12,  32,  10,  22,  was  an  eminent  English  architect. 

My  28,  20,  9,  40,  17,  14,  11,  was  a  German  lyric  poet. 

My  6,  34,  10,  3,  11,  13,  was  an  eminent  French  architect. 

My  8,  33,  15,  9,  was  a  celebrated  English  historian  and  philosopher. 

My  41,  21,  3,  33,  17,  was  an  eminent  German  musician. 

My  25,  18,  27,  40,  2,  6,  41,  3,  11,  3,  12,  was  a  viceroy  of  Mexico. 

My  32,  3,  32,  3,  10,  13,  14,  was  a  distinguished  French  astronomer. 

My  19,  22,  24,  28,  35,  32,  was  a  distinguished  German  anatomist. 

My  36,  35,  25,  17,  9,  21,  7,  was  a  learned  German  historian  and  mis- 
cellaneous writer. 

My  5,  3,  32,  8,  16,  33,  23,  w\is  a  distinguished  American  statesman. 

My  1,  32, 3, 19,  7, 18,  35,  14, 13,  was  an  eminent  Enghsh  astronomer. 

My  31,  25,  14,  32,  3,  12,  was  a  modern  Scotch  poet. 

My  41,  6,  21,  18,  21,  23,  was  an  eminent  English  landscape  painter. 

My  41,  20,  39,  32,  29,  18,  was  a  distinguished  French  architect. 

My  8,  30,  37,  88,  28,  29,  10,  was  a  Dutch  anatomist  and  physician. 

My  25,  7,  6,  26,  38,  21,  35,  was  a  distinguished  Spanish  prehate. 

My  whole  was  the  name  and  title  of  a  distinguished  marshal  of 
France.  

RIDDLE    so.  I. 

Mine  is  a  simple  riddle  involving  a  riddle,  which  second  involves  an- 
other infinitely  deeper;  so  'tis  a  three-fold  riddle,  and  yet  one. 

A  child  may  answer  the  simpler _^rs/,  from  his  own  reading,  or  from 
the  teachings  of  a  dear  mother's  lips.  Such  answer  may  be  found  in 
a  Book  penned  for  children,  as  well  as  for  the  middle-aged  and  hoary 
head. 

A  score  and  ten  once  puzzled  in  vain  over  the  second,  thougli  they 
were  of  no  childish  years,  and  though  a  week  was  granted  them  for  trial. 
<^  The  third,  the  riddle  hidden  under  the  second  its  emblem,  none  can 
truly  solve,  save  as  the  finger  of  Him  who  has  traced  it  in  the  blessed 


48  THE  puzzler's  drawer. 

Book,  writes  it  experimentally  upon  the  heart — it  may  be  even  upon 
the  heart  of  a  child  !  lauka. 

THE    TWIN    RIDDLE. 

My  first  is  often  very  beautiful,  often  very  plain  ;  often  almost  price- 
less, often  almost  valueless.  It  has  long  been  in  use,  yet  grows  in 
favor  daily.  It  is  the  ardent  desire  of  the  boy,  lies  near  the  heart  of 
his  parent.  It  possesses  several  attributes  of  humanity,  yet  is  the 
creature  of  man.  It  controls  many  of  our  decisions,  yet  is  pow^erless 
to  restrain.     It  suffers  from  neglect,  yet  is  insensible  to  kindness. 

My  second  is  the  first  lesson  we  acquire  in  life,  the  last  we  yield  in 
death.  'Tis  a  solace  in  adversity,  is  inseparable  from  prosperity.  The 
humblest  use  it  freely,  the  highest  cannot  dispense  with  its  service. 
It  causes  exquisite  pain,  it  yields  the  keenest  pleasure.  It  cheers  the 
thatched  cottage,  it  enlivens  the  stately  palace.  It  will  cement  friends, 
it  will  imbitter  enemies.  The  miser  and  the  profligate  are  alike  lavish 
of  it.  The  minister  uses  it  in  the  pulpit,  the  jockey  on  the  race-course. 
It  tells  of  love,  it  assures  of  hate.  It  greets  us  in  meeting,  it  melts  us 
in  parting.  My  first  and  second  are  distinct  and  perfect  in  themselves : 
without  them  both,  my  whole  could  not  be. 

My  first  is  a  divine  injunction,  my  last  a  heavenly  gift.  My  first 
guards  the  sleeping  citizen,  my  second  apprizes  him  of  danger.  My 
first  is  a  feline  trait,  my  second  is  peculiar  to  intelligent  beings.  The 
wisest  subject  my  second  to  my  first. 

My  whole  has  been  in  use  from  earliest  times  till  now.  It  is  jeal- 
ously guarded,  yet  is  daily  thrown  away.  It  is  a  key  to  admit,  it  is  a 
barrier  to  keep  out.  On  the  Jordan  once,  it  brought  death  to  some, 
while  it  was  the  guerdon  of  life  to  others.  George  "Washington  often 
used  it,  while  his  boot-black  used  it  at  the  same  time. 

My  riddle  is  two-fold,  but  you  cannot  give  answer  that  is  not  one 
of  its  members.  winthrop. 

CHARADE    NO.    I. 


My  first  from  its  original 
Has  suffered  a  contraction  ; 

And  prosy  people  use  the  whole, 
"While  poets  use  the  fraction. 

Take  from  my  first  the  leading  one 
Of  letters  which  it  claimeth, 

The  word  you  leave  alone  to  run, 
An  article  remaineth. 


Invert  my  first,  and  it  will  spell 
A  horse  of  humble  stature  ; 

Yet  that  he  lacks  in  sprightly  will, 
Xone  can  e'er  question  nature. 

My  second  is  a  cunning  snare, 
Which  fish  and  bird  once  under^ 

'Tis  but  the  finder's  cruel  care 
To  snap  their  lives  asunder  I 


THE  puzzler's   DRAWER. 


49 


Take  from  my  second  member  one, 
You'll  leave  a  French  conjunc- 
tion; 

And  in  the  Latin's  harsher  tongue, 
You'll  find  it  with  less  unction. 

Invert  my  second,  it  will  spell 
An  unit  with  its  zero  ; 


Perchance  a  lad,  whose  years  'twill 
tell. 
Would  think  himself  a  hero. 

My  whole,  a  fowl,  which  swims  the 
coast 

Of  Labrador's  cold  ocean  ; 
Green  Erin  too,  and  Albion  boast 

Its  little  sail's  commotion. 

LAURA. 


CHARADE    NO.    II. 

My  first  is  seen  in  all  its  pride 

On  summer  nights,  when  bright  and  clear, 

O'er  hill  and  dale  I  beauty  throw; 

Night  owes  me  much  throughout  the  year ; 

Some  say  my  vphole  no  substance  has, 

However  plain  it  may  appear ; 

I  shall  not  give  you  further  clue, 

No  need  to  one  as  smart  as  you, 

Enough,  my  whole  is  written  here. 


S.   N. 


1.  Time,  a  rat. 

2.  I    CAN    BET. 


BUDGET    OF    ANAGRAMS,    NO. 

3.  A   POT   RUG. 

4.  A   NICE    RAM. 


5.  Rapid  sea. 

6.  a  lone  pet. 

c.  manning. 


anagrams  of  scripture  proper  names,  no.  i. 

1.  i  hate  a  ram.  3.  rob  a  h03ie. 

2.  Head-band.  4.  Use  the  meal.       s.  e.  w. 


ALPHABETIC    PUZZLE. 

Ye  curious  ones,  who  ply  your  minds 
To  solving  puzzles  of  all  kinds, 
Now  turn  you  to  your  A,  B,  C, 
And  quick  untie  this  knot  for  me. 
The  list  of  words  which  I  require, 
Contains  the  alphabet  entire  : 
But  once  each  letter's  to  be  used, 
And  all  but  English  words  refused. 
If  all  the  six  and  twenty  sounds 
Which  of  our  language  are  the  grounds, 
3 


50 


THE   puzzler's   DRAWER. 


You  can  use  up,  as  pointed  out, 
(Of  which  there  is  a  serious  doubt,) 
'Twill  be  a  feat  of  wondrous  skill, 
And  competition  sure  will  fail. 
But  this  undone,  pray  ascertain 
How  few  must  unemployed  remain. 


THE    CARDINAL    PUZZLE. 

Mr.  Woodworth, — The  idea  of  the  following-  curious  puzzle  is  taken 
from  Albrecht  Durer's  celebrated  work,  called  Melancolia.  It  is  one  of 
more  than  ordinary  difficulty,  and  will  serve  both  to  perplex  and  amuse 
the  youthful  readers  of  your  excellent  periodical.  It  is  to  arrange  the 
cardinal  numbers,  from  1  to  16,  in  the  form 
of  a  solid  square,  (as  in  the  accompanying 
diagram,)  in  such  a  manner  that  the  inva- 
riable sum  of  those  figures  whicli  fall  in  the 
same  straight  line,  whether  vertical,  horizon- 
tal, or  diagonal,  shall  be  just  34.  It  may  be 
observed,  further,  tiiat  when  such  an  arrange- 
ment is  effected,  the  four  figures  immediately 
around  the  centre  of  the  diagram,  and  also 
the  four  occupying  the  respective  corners  of  the  diagram,  will  like- 
wise produce  the  same  sum,  when  added,  that  is,  34.  Here  is  a  puzzle 
which  will  tax  all  your  wits,  little  friends.  You  must  set  about  it  in 
earnest.  Adrian  van  sinderin. 

New  Haven,  Ct. 


REBUS    NO.    I. 


NAMES    OF    PLACES    IN  MASSACHUSETTS  ENIGMATICALLY  EXPRESSED. 

1.  A  conjunction,  and  a  preposition  signifying  above. 

2.  A  mineral,  and  part  of  the  body. 

3.  To  repair,  and  a  preposition. 


THE   puzzler's  DRAWER.  .  51 

4.  Part  of  the  body,  and  part  of  a  forest. 

5.  An  exclamation,  and  a  pit  of  water. 

6.  A  building  for  shelter,  and  an  adjective  signifying  firm.       s.  £.  w. 

HISTORICAL    QUERIES,    NO.    I. 

Under  this  head  Uncle  Frank  proposes  to  group  together,  from  month 
to  month,  questions  of  interest  to  the  student  of  history.  Some  of 
these  questions  will  require  a  little  study.  But  I  hope  no  one  will 
be  frightened  at  that.  The  knowledge  you  get  by  hard  study  is  more 
valuable  to  you  than  any  other,  because  you  are  more  likely  to  remem- 
ber it  in  after  life.  I  want  you  all  to  look  up  the  answers  to  these 
questions,  and  to  send  them  to  me,  so  that  I  can  print  them. 

1.  When  did  the  Normans  invade  England  1 

2.  When  were  glass  windows  first  used"? 

3.  What  is  meant  by  the  Magna  Charta  1  and  when  was  it  made  ? 

4.  When  was  the  magic  lantern  invented  ?  and  by  whom  1 

5.  When  was  Westminster  Abbey  built  ?  and  under  whose  reign  1 

6.  When  were  clocks  first  made  with  wheels  ? 

7.  At  what  time  did  the  crusades  commence  ?  How  many  crusades 
were  there  ?  and  what  are  their  several  dates  ? 

8.  When  was  Kenilworth  Castle  erected  ?  and  by  whom  ? 

9.  What  was  the  Doomsday  book  ?  and  when  was  it  completed  ? 


The  answer  to  one  of  the  riddles  published  two  months  since,  as 
most  of  my  young  friends  know  well  enough,  was  a  lock  of  hair.  Was 
it  not,  then,  a  pretty  mode  of  sending  me  the  solution,  that  of  enclosing 
a  beautiful  ringlet,  a  bona  fide  curl,  from  the  brow  of  one  of  Uncle 
Frank's  little  nieces  ?  "  And  who  did  that  ?"  you  ask.  The  credit  of 
it  must  be  divided  between  two  sisters  of  the  "  Old  Granite  State" — 
Ellen  and  Sarah  Benton.  The  answer,  also,  of  these  two  girls  to  the 
prize  charade  (published,  I  believe,  in  the  September  number,  but 
which  seems  to  have  been  generally  regarded  as  unanswerable)  is  very 
well  expressed.     It  is  as  follows  : 

The  school  ma'am's  rap  upon  our  head 

Somehow  affects  our  hearing. 
And  brings  to  mind  the  "prize  charade," 

For  both  will  make  your  ear  ring. 


% 


"T^ATR  ROSAMOND'S  BOWER" 


A    LABYRINTH — BY    S.    N. 


RALPH   RATTLEHEAD. 


53 


RALPH   RATTLEHEAD; 


OR,  "IT  IS  ONLY  IN  FUN." 


c^'\^- 


55MOXG  my  plnyfellows,  lono;  years  ,12:0,  wheu  I  went 

"(  to  tl-.p  vil!?)2^e  scliool,  was  one  who  gat  tlie  uickiianie 

j'    of  Ralpli  Rattleliead.     Tliat  nickname  was  so  c  >m- 

ji^    mon  among  the  scliohirs,  tliaL  liis  real  name,  which 

'-,H'   somewhat,  resembled  it  in    sound,  was   almost  foru-otten  ; 

^"^  and  now  tliat  I  wish  to  give  yon  a  cliapter  of. his  advHU- 
tures,  I  find  it  qnite  im]>ossihIe,  after  ooveiing  my  eyes  and  leaning 
my  head  upon  my  arm,  in  the  deepest  thought,  f(;r  some  minutes, 
to  recall  the  lionest  family  name  of  that  boy.  ]Uit  never  mind. 
We  will  trv  and  get  along  with  the  aid  of  the  nickname  alone. 

Ralph  Ratllehcad  was  biimfull  of  fun.  lie  was  all  the  lime 
pla\  ing  his  jokes  u|)on  some  one  or  other  of  the  boys  and  giils. 
I  used  cfien  to  thiidc  that  he  was  a  malicious  chap,  delighting  in 
the  i>ain  he  so  often  gave  by  his  fun.  But  I  do  not  think  so 
now.  Charity  seems  to  require  that  I  should  give  a  softer  name 
than  malice  to  the  character  that  prompts  one  to  do  such  things 
as  Ralph  did.  lie  was  such  a  great  lover  of  fun,  that  when  tiieie 
was  a  chance  for  a  joke,  he  did  not  stop  to  inquire  how  much  that 
joke  might  cost  another  person,  lie  was  like  the  urchins  who 
pelted  the  frogs  with  stones,  so  as  to  make  themselves  merry  with 
the  winks  and  dodges  of  those  simple  little  creatures.  These  boys — 
so  the  veteran  spokesman  of  that  frog  family  chaiitably  remarked, 
according  to  the  fable — were  bent  on  merry-making,  and  did  not 
stop  to  consider  that  what  might  be  sport  to  them,  was  death  to 
the  frogs. 

1  have  known  R;dpli,  more  than  once,  play  some  trick  on  the 
schoolmistress,  who  taught  oitr  scrfjool  in  the  summer;  and  once, 
I  ren)ember,  whtu  that  excellent  and  almost  too  good-natured 
woman    bad   suffered    bv    one   of  his  jokes,   I   saw   her  in    tear^. 


54 


RALPH   RATTLEHEAD  ;    OR, 


Ralph  saw  that  too,  and  when  the  school  was  out  that  noon,  he 
went  to  the  schoolmistress,  and  apologized  for-  his  rpde  behavior, 
saying,  as.  he  so  often  did  in  similar  circumstances,  "Oh,  it  was 
only  in  fun."  ^'^ 

I  have  known  him,  too,  when  one  of  his  playmates  was  twing, 
with  ever  so   much  patience  and  industry,  to  build  a  house  with 


ITS    ONLY    IX    FUN. 


small  blocks — I  have  known  this  Ralph  purposely  run  the  hoop 
which  he  was  rolling  at  the  time,  full  tilt  against  the  miniature 
house,  and  knock  it  all  down,  saying,  as  he  noticed  the  grief,  per- 
haps the  anger  of  his  playmate,  "It's  only  in  fun."  It  was  pretty 
dear  fun  to  the  young  house-builder. 

Ralph  had  a  sister  a  little  younger  than  himself.  A  lovely  girl 
everybody  knew  her  to  be — so  amiable,  so  s^eet-tempered,  and 
withal  of  so  cheerful  a  disposition,  -that  we  all  loved  her.  But  Ralph 
teased  her  a  great  deal  with  his  expensive  and  ill-timed  jokes. 
Not  that  he  ever  meant  to  wound  the  fe<iings  of  his  dear  sister 
Ruth.     But  he  was  thoughtless,  culpably,  cruelly  thoughtless. 

In  the  winter  season,  when  the  snow  was  d^ep  and  there  was 
fine  sliding  down  hill  near  the  school-house,  and  fine  skating  on 
Captain  Fish's  pond,  we  childrea  had  naerry  limes,  I  assure  you. 
Some  of  the  most  delightful  sports  of  the  whole  year,  were  con- 
nected with  the  snow.     Snow-balling  was  capital   fun,  though  like 


IT   IS   ONLY   IN   FUN."  65 


all  other  forms  of  fun,  it  was  not  vinfrequently  expensive.  In  the 
days  when  I  was  a  romping  child,  and  in  that  section  of  the  country 
where  I  lived,  a  snow-storm  was  a  more  noteworthy  affair  than  it 
is  now  in  the  latilude  of  New  York.  Why,  the  snow  used  to  fall 
so  deep,  in'the  middle  of  the  road,  that  a  boy,  ten  or  a  dozen  years 
old,,  would  sometimes  plunge  in  it  up  to  his  ears,  if  he  attempted 
to  go  out  soon  after  the  storm,  before  the  sleighs  commenced  run- 
ning. And  as  to  the  drifts,  they  were  pretty  good  substitutes  for 
mountains.  I  have  known  them  repeatedly  rise  as  high  as  the 
eaves  of  our  school-house.  After  a  genuine,  old-fashioned  snow- 
storm, all  the  neighbors  had  to  turn  oitt  and  cut  a  passage  through 
the  heaviest  drifts. 

At  such  times  as  these,  we  boys  used  to  account  it  the  richest 
possible  sport,  next  to  sliding  down  hill  at  the  rate  of  ten  knots 
an  hour,  on  our  sleds,  to  dig  under  one  of  the  largest  d lifts,  and 
open  a  mine  into  its  very  bowels.  One  day,  when  we  had,  at  a 
great  deal  of  pains-taking,  opened  such  a  mine  in  a  mountain 
drift  near  the  school-house,  Ralph  took  •it  into  his  head  to  make 
this  mine  help  him  in  playing  off  one  of  his  jokes  upor  iacob 
Rawson,  one  of  the  stillest  and  most  inoffensive  boys  we  had  in 
our  school.  Ralph  got  Jake  into  the  cave,  by  some  means,  and 
made  a  prisoner  of  him,  in  this  way  :  He  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  roll  up  a  large  snow-ball  beforehand.  This  ball  was  lying  within 
a  few  feet  of  the  mouth  of  the  cave  ;  and  befoi-e  Jake  had  any  idea 
of  the  trick  that  was  to  be  played  upon  him,  Ralph  had  rolled 
this  great  ball  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  which  was  only  large 
enough  for  a  person  to  enter  it  by  crawling  like  a  worm,  and  com- 
pletely shut  the  poor  fellow  in.  Not  satisfied  with  this  feat,  he 
strengthened  the  door,  already  pretty  formidable,  by  additions  of 
snow,  closely  packed  together.  It  so  happened,  that,  at  the  time, 
none  of  the  rest  of  the  boys  saw  what  Ralph  was  about,  they  being 
engMged  at  some  other  kind  of  sport ;  and  the  consequence  was, 
that  Ralph  pieced  this  joke  out  until  it  became  a  rather  serious 
affair.  When  he  released  his  prisoner,  telling  him,  as  he  did  so, 
that  it  was  "  only  in  fun,"  the  poor  fellow  had  frozen  one  of  the 
tinoers  on  his  rio-ht  hand,  and  it  Was  a  lono-  time  before  he  could 
use. a  pen  or  pencil.     I  do  believe  that  Ralph,  when  he  came  to 


66 


RALPH    RATTLEHEAD. 


be  aware  of  the  miscliief  lie  had  done,  would  willingly  liave  suf- 
fered himself  what  Jake  did,  if,  by  so  doing,  that  fellow  could 
have  liad  his  finger  restored.  But  in  this  case,  as  in  too  many 
others,  tiie  wisdom  and  sympathy  of  Ralph  Rattlehead  came  too 
late. 


AN    EXPENSIVE    JOKE, 


The  crowning  piece  of  fun  which  was  accomplished  by  Ralph 
was  on  this  wise  :  It  was  late  in  the  winter,  or  j^ossibly  early  in  the 
spring,  when  the  ice  on  Captain  Fish's  pond,  on  account  of  a  warm 
rain,  began  to  exiiibit  some  signs  of  weakness,  tliat  a  large  troop 
of  boys  were,  rather  cautiously,  skating  there.  Upon  some  spots 
they  did  not  dare  venture  at  all,  fearing  that  it  would  not  bear 
their  weight.  Ralph  was  on  hand,  as  usual.  With  the  assistance 
of  another  boy  or  two,  he  had  drawn  Ruth  and  a  younger  sister 
to  the  pond  on  his  sled. 

"  I  have  a  good  mind  to  take  a  turn  with  the  sled  on  the  ice," 
said  the  fun-loving  fellow. 

The  boys  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  doing  such  a  thing,  and 
Ruth  begged  him  not  to  go,  if  there  was  the  least  danger.  But 
Ralph  dashed  forward  upon  the  ice;  and  in  a  shorter  time  than  it 
takes  me  to  tell  of  his  adventure,  he  was  on  the  middle  of  the 


PLEADING  ON   BOTH   SIDES.  57 


pond,  with  his  two  sisters.  For  a  brief  period,  it  seemed  rare  sport 
to  Ralpli,  and  he  was  in  high  glee.  But  his  tune  changed  to  the 
minor  mode  soon,  as  tlie  singing-master  would  say.  Crack  went 
the  ice,  crack  again,  and  again,  and  before  the  boy  could  escape,  it 
quite  gave  way,  and  all  three  of  the  children  were  struggling  in 
the  deep,  cold  water  together.  Their  screams  brought  speedy  as- 
sistance from  those  boys  who  were  not  encumbered  with  skates. 
But  alas  !  so  for  as  little  Katy  was  concerned — dear  little  Katy,  the 
darling  pet  of  the  family — that  assistance  came  too  late.  Ralph 
and  Paith  were  rescued,  with  difficulty.  The  younger  sister  had 
got  under  the  ice  so  far,  that  it  was  impossible  to  reach  her  until 
she  was  drowned. 

There  is  a  proverb  which  somebody  has  uttered  and  set  afloat 
in  the  world,  in  these  words  :  "  Lose  your  best  joke  rather  than 
your  worst  friend."  The  proverb  is  a  good  one.  Too  many  peo- 
ple think  that  a  joke,  if  they  happen  to  have  one  on  hand,  is  such 
a  capital  thing  that  it  must  not  be  wasted  ;  and  so  they  let  it  off, 
hit  or  miss.  This  is  about  as  reasonable  as  it  would  be  to  take  a 
pint  of  salts  and  senna,  in  perfect  health,  because  it  is  good  medi- 
cine and  it  happens  to  be  at  hand  in  the  closet.  Jokes,  like  pow- 
der and  fire-crackers,  are  well  enough  in  their  place,  but  rather 
dano-erous  things.  I  don't  like  to  see  them  used  often.  Still  less 
do  I  like  to  see  one  of  my  young  friends  getting  into  a  habit  of 
playing  a  joke  upon  somebody  whenever  he  can  get  a  chance.  I 
know  that  such  a  person  will  never  get  along  iti  the  world  without 
often  bringing  himself  and  others  into  trouble. 


PLEADING  ON  BOTH  SIDES. 

One  of  the  most  celebrated  members  of  the  Paris  bar  was  con- 
sulted, the  other  day,  by  a  young  practitioner,  upon  an  obscure 
point  of  law.  "  I  cannot  give  you  a  positive  answer,  young  man," 
replied  the  advocate  ;  ''  I  have  once  pleaded  one  way,  and  once 
the  other,  and  I  gained  my  suit  each  time. 

VOL.  V.  f  * 


58 


LOITERINGS  ABOUT   VERONA. 


LOITERINGS  ABOUT  YERONA. 


igM 


Va 


Austria. 


HE  city  of  Verona,  as  1  suppose  most  of  you  know 
already,  is  situated  in  Lombardy,  one  of  the 
Italian  States.  This  section  of  Italy  stretches  to 
the  Adriatic  Sea  on  the  east,  is  divided  from 
Switzerland  on  the  north  by  the  Alps,  has  Piedmont  on 
the  west,  and  the  Roman  States  on  the  south.  It  takes  in 
Venice,  and  forms  with  it  a  kingdom  under  the  rule  of 
Austria,  you  must  know,  is  a  sort  of  anaconda,  swallow- 
ing- up  whole  all  such  poor  victims  in  her  neighborhood  as  have 
the  misfortune  to  be  worth  anything,  and  to  be  smaller  and  weaker 
than  she  is.  Of  course  she  swallows  up  all  these  smaller  states 
for  their  own  good — so  we  are  told.  She  is  a  very  humane  ana- 
conda, very  humane  indeed.  I  had  a  long  talk  with  an  Austrian 
officer  at  Verona  about  this  government  matter.  He  said  these 
Italians  could  not  govern  themselves — they  had  tried  that  experi- 
ment often  enough — and  it  was  a  great  mercy  to  them  that  Aus- 
tria should  step  in  and  give  them  good  laws.  "  But  they  don't  like 
your  laws,"  I  ventured  to  reply.  "  They  are  very  restive  under 
your  rule,  and  frequently  try  to  wrest  your  bit  from  their  mouth." 
He  laughed.  "  Of  course  they  do,"  said  he.  "  But  that  doesn't 
prove  that  they  are  not  well  governed.  What  people  were  ever 
satisfied  with  their  government  ?  It  is  the  best  they  ever  had, 
though  ;  and  but  for  us,  they  would  all  be  together  by  the  ears, 
fighting  like  wild  cats  and  hyenas.  We  govern  them  well.  Don't 
you  see  we  let  them  do  very  much  as  they  please  ?"  I  didn't  ex- 
actly see  that,  and  so  I  remarked.  But  it  is  not  wise  to  say  too 
much  about  politics  within  hearing  of  the  Austrian  eagle,  and  I 
soon  allowed  the  conversation  to  take  another  turn.  By  the  way, 
if  I  were  to  act  on  the  principle  that  one  must  speak  well  of  a  bridge 


LOITERINGS   ABOUT   VERONA.  59 


that  carries  him  safe  across  a  stream,  I  should  certainly  bo  obliged 
to  say  nothing  but  good  things  of  these  Austrians.  Among  no 
other  people  in  Europe  was  I  treated  with  more  uniform  courtesy. 
An  Austrian  officer,  in  my  way  of  thinking,  is  one  of  the  most  fin- 
ished specimens  of  civility  and  politeness  to  be  found  on  the  con- 
tinent. But  I  must  not  let  Mazzini  or  Kossuth  hear  that.  I  am 
afraid  they  would  cast  me  out  of  their  synagogue,  if  they  should 
hear  it. 

Lombardy  embraces  some  of  the  finest  cities  in  Italy.  Among 
these,  Verona  has  a  right  to  claim  a  high  place.  From  Venice  to 
Verona,  we  now  go  by  railway.  I  took  my  place  in  the  third  class 
cars.  Think  of  that.  A  republican,  coming  from  a  country  where 
every  man  thinks  he  is  as  good  as  any  other  man  in  all  creation, 
calmly  taking  his  seat,  in  aristocratic  Europe,  in  a  car  of  the  third 
grade  !  "  Well,  why  did  you  choose  such  a  seat  ?"  For  two  rea- 
sons, if  not  three.  The  third  class  cars  are  decidedly  the  best  for 
seeing  the  country.  They  are  covered  overhead,  but  are  entirely 
open  at  the  sides.  The  cost  in  these  cars  is  a  good  deal  less — I 
am  not  ashamed  to  bring  in  that  circumstance  as  one  reason.  And 
besides  this,  I  was  anxious  to  retain  the  company  of  an  intelligent 
English  lady  with  whom  I  had  previously  traveled  many  miles,  and 
who  would  neV'Cr  take  any  other  seat  when  one  of  the  third  class 
was  to  be  had.  It  cannot  be  denied,  however — for  there  are  thorns 
connected  with  most  of  our  roses  in  this  woi-ld — that  the  compan- 
ions one  meets  in  these  exceedingly  democratic  apartments,  are  not 
always  the  most  select  and  refined.  The  Germans,  who  are  pro- 
digious smokers,  almost  always  patronize  the  third  class.  They  do 
it,  I  apprehend,  because  they  consider  it  a  great  waste  of  time  to 
be  sitting  still  without  a  pipe  in  their  mouth.  You  have  no  idea 
what  interminable  smokers  they  are.  Their  pipes  seem  absolutely 
bottomless.  Your  out-and-out  German  will  keep  a  pipe  in  his 
mouth  for  eight  hours  on  a  stretch,  and  puff  away,  like  a  steam 
engine,  for  a  great  part  of  the  time.  Each  German  is  a  Vesuvius 
in  miniature — a  Vesuvius,  that  is,  in  a  quiet  state,  with  clouds  of 
smoke,  but  very  little  fire. 

For  the  whole  distance  between  Venice  and  Verona  we  pass 
through  vineyards,  in  which  the  vine  grows  most  luxuriantly.     It 


60  LOITEEENGS   ABOUT   VERONA. 

is  (rained  on  inulberiy-trees,  nnd  mH  the  f-inneis  who  cultivate  the 
grape  kecj)  silk-wonus  too,  which  tliey  feed  tVoni  these  mulberry- 
tret'S.  AVe  saw  great  numbers  of  chihhen,  of  both  sexes,  picking 
the  mulberry  leaves,  and  j)lacing  them  in  large  sack-^.  The  peas- 
anlry  are  better  clad  in  this  ])art  of  Italy  than  they  are  in  the 
P()])e's  dominions.  They  do  not  look  so  much  as  if  they  were  ac- 
tually on  the  confines  of  starvation,  l^egn^ars  are  more  scarce  here. 
True,  you  find  more  or  less  of  them  in  all  Italy  ;  but  you  must  go 
into  the  Papal  States,  or  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  if  you  want  to 
see  wliole  regiments  of  them. 

We  arrived  at  Verona  at  about  eight  in  the  evening.  After  sup- 
per at  a  hotel  \vhicli  was  recomjnended  to  us  as  the  best  in  the 
city,  but  which  might  be  vastly  impioved,  we  strolled  out  to  the 
amphitheatre.  It  was  a  charming  night.  The  moon  had  but  just 
begun  to  wane,  and  not  a  single  star  was  dimmed  by  a  cloud.  We 
entered  one  of  the  outer  doors  of  the  ami)hitheatre,  and  f(Mind  om- 
selves  in  a  vast  edifice,  resembling  the  theatres  in  Pompeii.  It  is 
not  to  be  compared  to  the  Ct)liseum  in  size,  but  is  a  very  imposing 
edifice.  It  is  built  wholly  of  stone,  most  of  the  blocks  of  which 
are  of  huge  dimensions.  This  theatre  was  perhaps  erected  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  first  century.  I  saw  no  similar  building  in  Eu- 
rope of  so  great  antiquity,  which  was  so  neaijy  entire.  Earthquakes, 
"which  have  made  such  havoc  with  theatres  in  Southern  Italy,  seem 
not  to  have  damaged  this  at  all.  It  is  built  in  an  oval  form.  Its 
greater  diameter  is  some  five  hundred  feet ;  its  shorter  diameter 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  Like  the  structures  of  the  same 
kind  in  Pompeii,  the  seats  are  of  stone,  and  rise  at  regular  dis- 
tances, one  above  another,  almost  from  the  level  of  the  arena.  It 
is  cai)able  of  holding  thirty-two  thousand  people.  The  height  of 
the  ontire  structure  is  about  one  hundred  feet.  It  was  evidently  a 
little  higher  once,  but  some  of  the  upper  tiers  of  seats  have  been 
removed,  perhaps  for  building  purposes.  I  enjoyed  this  moonlight 
visit  to  the  old  theatre  at  Verona  exceedingly.  A  very  clear  idea 
of  the  arrangements  of  ancient  amphitheatres  can  be  obtained  from 
nn  iiisjiecLi(tn  of  this  ruin.  Tlie  numbers  sculptured  on  the  arches 
of  the  outer  circuit,  to  guide  the  spectators  where  to  present  their 
tickets,  remain  in   a  perfectly  legible  condition.     I  ascended   to 


LOITERIXGS    ABOUT   VERONA.  61 

the  top  of  the  building,  on  a  visit  I  paid  to  it  afterwards, 
by  daylight,  and  bad  a  fine  view  of  the  surrounding  country. 
While  standing  there,  a  long  procession,  headed  by  the  effigy  of 
some  favorite  saint,  passed  the  theatre,  the  priests  in  their  long 
robes  chanting  the  praises  of  the  saint  in  loud  and  rather  unmu- 
sical voices.  This  procession  in  honor  of  deceased  saints  is  very 
common  in  Italy  ;  but  I  never  got  so  much  accustomed  to  the  scene 
as  to  be  able  to  see  it  without  laughter.  It  is  extremely  ludicrous. 
The  procession  of  the  boys  on  Guy  Fawkes'  day,  in  England,  is 
scarcely  more  mirth-inspiring.  Many  of  the  priests  sing  like  the 
wolf  in  the  fable.  They  march  very  fast,  too,  in  these  processions, 
as  if  they  were  conducting  an  effigy  of  some  great  criminal  to  the 
flames. 

Shakspeare,  you  know,  has  rendered  Verona  famous  b}'  his 
tragedy  of  Romeo  and  Juliet.  Everybody,  who  has  read  the  plays 
of  this  great  poet,  wants  to  see  the  tomb  of  Juliet.  It  is  very  kind, 
therefore,  in  the  Verona  people,  to  direct  us  to  the  exact  spot  where 
the  tomb  is  situated.  I  went  to  see  it.  Every  other  visitor  to 
Verona  had  done  so  before  me.  How  could  I  do  less  ?  I  don't 
know  of  a  better  subject  on  whom  to  practice  antiquarian  hoaxes 
than  I  am.  In  the  absence  of  any  very  direct  and  very  tangible 
proof  in  favor  of  the  antiquities,  I  always  bring  to  my  relief  the  re- 
flection, that  it  is  at  least  possible  that  the  article  they  show  up  is 
genuine  ;  and  that  is  a  great  comfort.  I  went  to  see  the  so-called 
tomb  of  Juliet.  It  is  in  a  garden.  The  material  is  reddish  mar- 
ble.  It  is  of  the  proper  proportions  certainly  ;  "  and  who  knows," 
I  said,  "  but  this  may  be  the  identical  sarcophagus  in  which  that 
heroine  lay  ?  Who  knows  ?"  Unfortunately  for  my  enthusiasm, 
echo,  in  the  shape  of  an  old  tradition,  answered,  "  /  know."  If  the 
honest  truth  must  be  told,  that  so-called  tomb,  before  the  English 
and  American  travelers  began  to  clamor  so  loudly  for  Juliet's  grave, 
stood  in  another  part  of  the  city,  and  was  used  as  a  wash-trough. 
This  is  the  same  thing,  by-the-bye,  from  which  Maria  Louisa  broke 
otf  a  piece,  and  which  she  kept  as  a  relic  of  the  utmost  value, 
causing  it  to  be  wrought  into  an  elegant  necklace  o1  gems. 

Among  the  forty  or  fifty  churches  in  Verona,  that  of  San  Zeno 
is  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  most  worthy  of  a  visit.     The  saint  from 


62  LOITERINGS  ABOUT  VERONA. 


wliom  tlie  cliurch  takes  its  name,  was  by  birth  an  African.  He 
was  the  bishop  of  Verona  in  362,  at  the  time  of  Julian  the  Apos- 
tate. He  is  now  the  patron  saint  of  tlie  city.  We  were  shown  his 
statue.  lie  is  sitling,  rather  awkwardly,  in  a  chair,  and  is  painted 
almost  black.  He  is  represented  in  the  act  of  blessing  the  people. 
In  a  little  chamber  is  a  huge  vase  of  porphyry,  made  from  a  single 
stone,  the  outside  diameter  of  which  is  some  fourteen  feet.  This 
vase,  according  to  a  foolish  old  legend,  came  from  Syria,  and  was 
brouo-ht  by  the  fiend,  at  the  command — or  the  request,  I  forget 
which — of  the  bishop.  It  was  formerly  used,  they  tell  us,  for  wash- 
ing the  feet  of  the  pilgrims,  before  entering  the  sacred  edifice,  and 
s'uood  at  the  entrance. 

There  is  a  very  ancient  cemetery  adjoining  the  church,  which 
contains  a  singular  mausoleum.  We  descend  to  the  bottom  of  it 
by  a  flight  of  steps,  when  we  find  a  sarcophagus  evidently  of  great 
antiquity.  An  inscription  over  it  informs  us  that  in  it  repose  the 
ashes  of  Pepin,  king  of  Italy,  who  died  at  Milan  in  the  year  810. 
The  sepulchre  is  a  remarkable  one,  and  was  no  doubt  constructed 
for  some  person  of  great  distinction  ;  but  the  inscription  bears  the 
marks  of  a  quite  recent  period,  and  indeed  we  have  it  on  pretty 
good  authority  that  it  was  put  up  by  a  priest  during  the  last  cen- 
tury, who  determined  that,  lather  than  allow  the  world  to  i)uzzle 
its  brains  any  longer  as  to  the  occupant,  he  would  himself  cut  the 
Gordian  knot,  and  give  the  mausoleum  to  Pepin.  Why  in  the 
world  did  not  somebody,  long  ago,  prove  it  to  be  the  tomb  of  the 
Capulets,  made  so  famous  by  Shakspeare  ?  I  do  not  see  why,  by  a 
little  of  the  legerdemain  of  antiquaiian  criticism,  this  case  could  not 
be  made  out  "  as  clear  as  mud."  It  is  too  late  now,  I  suppose,  to 
start  any  new  theory  ;  else  I  am  not  sure  but  I  would  enter  the 
lists,  and  write  for  some  dull  Quarteily  one  of  the  most  profound 
and  interminable  treatises  that  any  mortal  ever  slept  over,  to  show 
that  precisely  in  this  deep,  dark  cell  might  have  taken  place  that 
wholesale  tragedy  with  which  "Romeo  and  Juliet"  closes.  Reader, 
if  that  day  ever  arrives  when  I  have  nothing  else  to  do,  then  look 
out  for  that  profound  dissertation  on  the  Tumb  of  the  C;ipnlets, 
and  look  out,  too,  as  the  almanacs  say,  "about  this  time,"  for  a 
great  fiuttering  in  the  circles  of  the  learned — among  the  savanSy  I 


THE  LITTLE  SCOTCH  WIT.  63 

feel  tempted  to  say,  already  catching,  in  advance,  the  spirit,  and 
consequently  tlie  languag-'e,  of  the  sage  critics  and  reviewers.  The 
astounding  query,  "Have  we  a  Bourbon  among  us?"  would,  I 
doubt  not,  in  this  event,  be  thrown  completely  into  the  shade,  by 
the  first  dash  of  my  pen — "  Has  the  Tomb  of  the  Capulets  been 
found  ?" 

The  city  of  Verona  is  divided  into  two  portions  by  the  river 
Adige,  which  runs  through  it  in  such  a  hurry,  that  I  could  not  help 
thinking  that  it  was  not  partial  to  cities,  and  so  was  trying  to  get 
into  the  countiy  again  in  the  briefest  possible  space  of  time  ;  or  else 
that  it  lashed  itself  into  an  unnatural  fury,  just  to  show  the  citizens 
what  it  is  capable  of  doing,  as  the  Yankee  stage  driver  often  urges 
his  steeds  to  the  top  of  their  speed  when  entering  a  village.  This 
river  is  crossed  by  four  or  five  fine  bridges.  The  stream  is  often 
swollen  to  a  fearful  height  by  freshets.  When  the  snow  melts  on 
the  Tyrol  Alps,  the  Adige  becomes  furious,  and  sometimes  sweeps 
away  bridges  which  it  took  long  years  to  build.  A  freshet  which 
took  place  in  the  13th  century,  one  of  the  most  disastrous  on  re- 
cord, is  commemorated  by  a  painting  in  the  cathedral. 

In  this  stream,  as  in  many  others  throughout  Italy,  you  see  nu- 
merous wheels  used  for  turning  mills.  The  water  is  not  raised  by 
a  dam,  as  is  the  case  in  our  country  ;  but  a  small  mill,  by  means 
of  anchors,  perhaps,  is  placed  in  the  swiftest  part  of  the  stream, 
and  the  wheel  is  turned,  often  rather  slowly  to  be  sure,  by  the  nat- 
ural force  of  the  current.  To  me,  it  seemed  a  lazy  mode  of  turning 
mills. 


THE  LITTLE  SCOTCH  WIT. 

A  BOY,  about  eight  years  of  age,  entered  a  shop  in  Dundee,  Scot- 
land, and  asked  for  a  pound  of  canary  seed.  As  he  had  no  money 
to  pay  for  it,  the  shopkeeper,  to  whom  the  boy  was  well  known, 
^vishing  to  ascertain  whether  he  had  been  sent  by  his  parents  or 
by  any  other  paity,  asked,  "  Is  that  seed  for  your  mither,  my  man- 
nie  ?"     "  No,"  said  the  boy,  "  it's  for  the  bird." 


64 


I   WAIT  FOR  THEE 


I  WAIT  FOR  THEE ! 

The  hearth  is  swept — the  fire  is  bright, 

The  kettle  sings  for  tea: 
The  cloth  is  spread — the  lamp  is  light, 
And  white  cakes  smoke  in  napkins  white, 

And  now  I  wait  for  thee. 

Come,  come,  love,  home,  thy  task  is  done ; 

The  clock  ticks  listeningly; 
The  blinds  are  shut,  the  curtain  down, 
The  warm  chair  to  the  fireside  drawn, 

The  boy  is  on  ray  knee. 


Come  home,  love,  come ;  his  deep,  fond  eye 

Looks  round  him  wistfully, 
And  when  the  whispering  winds  go  by, 
As  if  thy  welcome  step  were  nigh, 

He  crows  exultingly. 


THE   CHAMELEON   AND   HIS   JUDGES.  65 

In  vain — he  finds  the  welcome  vain, 

And  turns  his  glance  on  mine, 
So  earnestly,  that  yet  again 
His  form  unto  my  heart  I  strain, 

That  glance  is  so  like  thine. 

Thy  task  is  done — we  miss  thee  here, 

Where'er  thy  footsteps  roam, 
No  heart  will  spend  such  kindly  cheer, 
No  beating  heart,  no  listening  ear, 

Like  those  who  wait  thee  home. 

Ah,  now  along  the  crisp  walk  fast 

That  well-known  step  doth  come;         •-■'^  ' 

The  bolt  is  drawn,  the  gate  is  past,    / 

The  babe  is  wild  with  joy  at  last — 
A  thousand  welcomes  home  ! 


THE  CHAMELEOlSr  AND  HIS  JUDGES. 


AN    OLD    FABLE. 


Two  travelers,  of  conceited  cast, 
As  o'er  Arabia's  wilds  they  passed, 
And,  on  their  way,  in  friendly  chat. 
Now  talked  of  this,  and  then  of  that; 
Discoursed  awhile,  'mongst  other  matter. 
Of  the  chameleon's  form  and  nature  : 
"  A  stranger  animal,"  cries  one, 
"  Sure  never  lived  beneath  the  sun ; 
A  lizard's  body,  lean  and  long; 
A  fish's  head ;  a  serpent's  tongue  ; 
Its  tooth  with  triple  claw  disjoined. 
And  what  a  length  of  tail  behind! 
How  slow  its  pace  !  and  then  its  hue — 
Who  ever  saw  so  fine  a  blue?" 
"Hold  there,"  the  other  quick  replies: 
"  'Tis  green — I  saw  it  with  these  eyes, 
As  late  with  open  mouth  it  lay. 
And  warmed  it  in  the  sunny  ray; 


66  THE   CHAMELEON  AND   HIS   JUDGES. 

Stretched  at  its  ease,  the  beast  I  viewed, 

And  saw  it  eat  the  air  for  food." 

"I've  seen  it,  !^ir,  as  well  as  you, 

And  must  again  affirm  it  blue; 

At  leisure  I  the  beast  surveyed, 

Extended  in  the  cooling  shade." 

" 'Tis  green,  'tis  green,  sir!  I  assure  ye." 

"  Green !"  cries  the  other,  in  a  fury, 

"Why,  sir;  d'ye  think  I've  lost  my  eyes?'* 

" 'Twere  no  great  loss,"  the  friend  replies: 

"For,  if  they  always  .serve  you  thus, 

You'll  find  them  but  of  little  use." 

So  high,  at  last,  the  contest  rose. 

From  words  they  almost  came  to  blows  : 

When,  luckily,  came  by  a  tiiird. — 

To  him  the  question  they  referred. 

And  begged  he'd  tell  them,  if  he  knew, 

Whether  the  thing  was  green  or  blue? 

"  Sirs,"  cries  the  umpire,  "cease  your  pother — 

"The  creature's  neither  one  nor  t'other; 

I  caught  the  animal  last  night. 

And  viewed  it  o'er  by  cnndle-light ; 

I  marked  it  well — 'twas  black  as  jet : 

You  stare  ;  but,  sirs,  I've  got  it  yet. 

And  can  produce  it." — "  Pray,  sir,  do ; 

I'll  lay  my  life  the  thing  is  blue." 

"  And  I'll  engage,  that  when  you've  seen 

The  reptile,  you'll  pronounce  him  green." 

"  Well,  then,  at  once  to  ease  the  doubt," 

Replies  the  man,  "  I'll  turn  him  out ; 

And,  when  before  your  eyes  I've  set  him, 

If  you  don't  find  him  black.  I'll  eat  him." 

He  said — then  full  before  their  sight 

Produced  the  beast,  and  lo  !  'twas  white ! 

Both  stared ;  the  man  looked  wondrous  wise. 

"  My  children,"  the  chameleon  cries, 

(Then  first  the  creature  found  a  tongue,) 

"You  all  are  right,  and  all  are  wrong; 

When  next  you  talk  of  what  you  view, 

Think  others  see  as  well  as  you; 

Nor  wonder,  if  you  find  that  none 

Prefers  your  eye-sight  to  his  own." 


THE   INDIANS'   BONES. 


67 


THE  INDIANS'  BONES. 


lEDNESDAY  aftemooii  !     Iloorali !"  sliouted   Char- 
^il|  lie,  rusliing  in  to  dinner  before  the  town   clock 

was  fairly  on  the  last  stroke  of  twelve. 
Wednesday  afternoon.     Mother,  what  would  you  do 
this  afternoon,  now  say,  if  you  were  I  ?" 

"  Well,  Charlie,  if  I  were  you,  I  think  I  should  eat  my 
dinner  the  first  thing.  And  as  there  is  plenty  of  time, 
I  don't  think  I  would  swallow  moi'C  than  half  of  a  potato  at  once. 
Yow  will  not  enjoy  play  quite  so  well,  if  your  dinner  is  not  well 
iigested." 

'  Well,  I'll  try  to  eat  slow,"  said  Charlie,  as  the  other  half  of 
the  potato  suddenly  disappeared.  "  Oh,  I  forgot !  Well,  I  sent 
that  mouthful  down  with  a  search-warrant  for  the  other  ;  and  an 
ofiicer  with  a  search-warrant  is  always  in  a  hurry,  you  know.  But 
say,  mother,  would  you  go  a  '  tom-codding  ?'" 

"  No,  Charlie,  /  wouldn't.  The  poor  little  '  tora-cods,'  as  you 
call  them,  are  not  large  enough  to  be  cooked  ;  and  I  don't  think 
that  my  boy  would  be  any  happier  for  putting  an  end  to  the  life 
of  a  well-behaved  little  fish." 

"  Well-behaved  !  Ah,  mother,  I  don't  think  they  are — to  come 
right  up  into  the  sloughs  where  we  boys  go  to  play,  and  tempt  us 
to  be  so  cruel  as  to  catch  them  with  our  strings  and  bent  pins. 
0,  I  know  where  I'm  going  I  Guess — won't  you  ?  Down  to  see 
the  Indian  bones." 

"  Indian  bones  ?  where  V 

"  Oh  !  down  by  Mr.  Stone's  new  house.  Teddy  Mooney's  father 
works  down  there,  you  know,  digging.  Well,  he  was  digging  some 
post-holes,  and  all  of  a  sudden  he  shoveled  up  a  lot  of  yellow- 
looking  bones.     Well,  then  they  thought  somebody  was  biried 


68  THE   INDIANS'   BONES.      A 

there,  and  "went  to  dig  right  straight  along;  whe^,  what  do  you 
think  ?  a  whole  lot  of  bones  came  tumbling  down^over  them. 
Teddy's  father  called  out  '  Whoa  !'  and  then  blessed  himself;  but 
that  didn't  do  any  good,  did  it?  But  you  see  their  falling  down 
shows  that  they  were  Indians,  because  they  were  always  buried  sit- 
ting," said  Charlie,  with  the  air  of  one  who  settles  a  disputed  fact ; 
and  he  added,  "  They  had  their  heads  turned  to  the  east,  too." 

"  Well,  my  son,  when  you  have  seen  them,  tell  me  whose  you 
think  they  were." 

Charlie  went,  with  two  little  cousins  ;  and  when  they  got  there, 
they  found  some  other  boys  standing  round  the  hole  into  which 
the  bones  had  been  thrown. 

George  Lansing  was  holding  up  a  fragment  of  the  jaw,  in  which 
several  teeth  remained,  in  hideous  perfection. 

"  Say,  boys,"  he  shouted,  "  don't  those  teeth  look  as  though  they 
were  used  for  eating  white  folks  ?  This  is  the  finest  specimen  of 
the  lot,  and  I'm  going  to  carry  it  liome,  and  put  it  on  our  parlor 
mantel-piece.     Mother  likes  curiosities." 

Charlie  thought  that  his  mother  wouldn't  like  to  see  that  savage- 
looking  jaw  on  her  mantel-piece.     He  said  : 

"  I  guess  they  didn't  eat  white  folks,  though.  The  North  Ameri- 
can Indians  were  not  cannibals." 

"  Maybe  they  were  omniverous.  Sir  Charlie  ;  and  if  they  ate 
everything,  they  might  eat  a  white  pappoose,  like  you,  once  in  a 
while.  But  who  knows  that  it  wasn't  King  Philip,  or  Massasoit, 
or  some  such  famous  red-skin  ?"  said  George. 

"  Pshaw  !"  replied  Charlie,  "  Mother  says  all  school-hoys  are  om- 
niverous, but  they  are  not  cannibals.  And  as  to  its  being  King 
Philip  or  Massasoit,  I  guess  neither  of  them  was  ever  within  a  hun- 
dred miles  of  this  town.  Mount  Hope  is  a  good  ways  off,  and 
Plymouth — " 

"  Well  done,  Mr.  Professor  !"  shouted  the  boys,  each  brandishing 
a  bone,  "  now  prove  that  it  wasn't  Red  Jacket — " 

"  Nor  the  Indian  that  said  '  O  wanux'  to  the  Pilgrims — " 

"  Nor  the  witch  Tituba— " 

"Nor  Pocahontas'  grandfather  1" 

And  they  dispersed. 


1 


A  HEN   STORY.  G9 

-    ...   * 


Charlie  was  somewliat  vexed  tliat  the  boys  sliouU  not  appreciate 
liis  efturts  to  enlighten  them,  but'^e  soon  .'goVover  it,  and  walked 
homeward  along  the  silent  beach,  musing  thus  : 

"  Who  were  they  ?  If  that  broken  jaw  could  speak,  it  might 
liave  told  me  some  nice  stories  about  Roger  Conant,  Governor 
Euflicott,  or  the  Lady  Arabella,  for  they  lived  close  by.  Well,  after 
all,  I  shall  have  to  go  home  and  ask  mother  to  help  me  guess  about 
these  Indians'  bones."  aunt  lucy. 


A  HEN  STOKY. 


ABOUT  the  first  of  December  last,  one  of  my  hens,  who  had 
"stolen  her  nest,"  hatched  a  brood  of  nine  chickens,  and  as 
they  made  their  appearance  so  late  in  the  season,  it  was  thouoht 
they  had  a  cheerless  prospect  before  them,  and  if  any  of  them 
survived  the  winter,  it  would  be  at  the  sacrifice  of  sundry  toes. 
But  they  had  the  run  of  an  empty  barn,  with  the  rest  of  the  fowls, 
some  thirty  in  number,  and  it  was  observed  that  one  of  the 
"  roosters"  very  complacently  assisted  dame  Partlet  in  caring  for 
her  little  family  ;  and,  as  every  husband  should  be,  was  the  prin- 
cipal purveyor  for  the  little  ones  ;  but,  after  a  few  days,  he  retired 
from  his  new  vocation,  and  his  place  was  immediately  supplied  by 
a  hen,  whose  incessant  care  of  her  sister's  chickens  was  only 
rivaled  by  the  veiitable  mother  herself.  A  friend,  wanting  some 
of  my  hens  about  this  time,  1  included  in  the  number  I  sent  him 
the  volunteer  mother,  as  I  thought  one  hen  was  able  to  take  care 
of  H  brood  of  nine  chickens;  but  it  a])peared  1  was  out  there,  at 
least  in  the  judgment  of  the  hens  ;  for  no  sooner  had  the  afore- 
said sM|)ernumerary  nurse  made  her  exit,  then  there  came  forward 
aiiollier  hen  to  supply  her  place,  and  both  hens  took  mutual 
charge  of  their  little  family,  in  perfect  harmony,  during  the  day, 
a)id  at  night  sat  close  togetln-r,  wiih  the  chickens  undei'  their 
wings.     So  says  one  of  our  Yankee  farmers. 


70 


THE   ISLAND   OF   MALTA. 


THE.ISLAND'OF  MALTA. 


MONG  the  islands  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean, none  are  more  important  than 
Malta,  with  an  area  of  only  ninety- 
eight  square  miles.  Indeed,  on  sev- 
eral accounts,  it  has  long  had  a  de- 
gree of  celebrity  and  power  greater, 
perhaps,  than  has  ever  been  attached  to  any  other  territory  of  no 
greater  extent.  It  was  formerly  called  Melita.  You  will  remember 
the  account  of  Paul's  visit  to  it,  recorded  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apos- 
tles. It  was  here  that  the  poisonous  viper  fastened  on  his  hand, 
the  superstitious  natives  first  contending  stoutly  that  he  must  be 
a  very  bad  man,  or  the  viper  would  not  take  such  a  liberty  with 
him,  and  afterwards,  when  they  perceived  that  he  escaped  unharm- 
ed, taking  the  opposite  ground,  and  insisting  that  he  was  a  god. 
The  island  lies  south  of  Sicily  some  sixty  miles.  It  is  now  under 
the  British  Government.     Besides  the  natives,  the  population  is 


I 


THE   ISLAND   OF   MALTA.  71 

made  up  of  English,  Jews,  Greeks,  Turks,  Egyptians,  Italians, 
French,  and  Dutch.  The  Maltese,  English,  and  Italian,  are  the 
prominent  languages.  On  the  south-west,  the  land  rises  very 
abruptly  more  than  twelve  hundred  feet,  while  on  the  north-east  it 
is  low.  There  is  but  one  small  stream  on  the  island,  which  is  con- 
ducted, by  an  aqueduct  of  several  thousand  arches,  and  eight  miles 
long,  to  Valetta.  This  city  is  the  capital  of  the  island,  and  has 
one  of  the  best  ports  in  the  Mediterranean,  it  being  capable  of  con- 
taining more  than  five  hundred  vessels.  The  climate  is  hot,  but 
the  severity  of  the  heat  is  much  relieved  by  the  seS,  breezes,  which 
almost  always  set  in  at  night.  The  principal  productions  are  cot- 
ton, oranges,  figs,  and  melons. 

The  Maltese  are  of  African  origin,  with  a  sw^arthy  skin,  and  hair 
similar  to  that  of  the  African  race  among  us.  They  are  spoken  of — let 
us  hope  unjustly — as  ignorant,  superstitious,  dishonest,  and  revenge- 
ful. The  upper  classes  generally  speak  Italian  ;  but  the  language  of 
the  common  people  is  a  patois  compounded  of  several  dialects. 

Valetta,  the  capital,  is  represented  in  the  engraving.  It  was 
founded,  in  1566,  by  Lavalette,  grand  master  of  the  Knights  of 
Malta,  sometimes  called  the  Knights  of  St.  John.  This  order  was 
established  as  early  as  the  period  of  the  commencement  of  the 
crusades  to  the  Holy  Land.  This  city  is  remarkable  for  the  mag- 
nificence of  its  buildings,  as  well  as  the  strength  of  its  fortifications. 
The  church  of  St.  John,  the  patron  of  the  order,  is  a  noble  building, 
which  once  contained  great  riches.  The  palace  of  the  grand  mas- 
ter is  an  extensive  pile,  and  contains  a  splendid  armory  of  ancient 
and  modern  weapons.  The  hospital,  once  under  the  care  of  the 
knights,  is  a  large  edifice,  capable  of  containing  two  thousand  pa- 
tients. The  vessels  used  in  the  hospital  service  were  of  solid  silver. 
Immense  granaries,  cut  out  of  the  rock,  were  formerly  stored  with 
provision  sufficient  to  sustain  the  garrison  for  twenty  years.  The 
fortifications  are  said  to  be  the  strongest  in  the  world.  The  ditches 
are  in  some  places  ninety  feet  deep,  hewn  out  of  the  rock,  and  the 
ramparts  are  mostly  formed  in  the  same  manner. 

Malta  was  at  an  early  period  in  the  hands  of  the  Carthaginians, 
who  were  succeeded  by  the  Romans.  It  was  occupied,  in  the 
middle  ages,  by  the  Saracens  and  the  Normans,  and  in  1530,  was 


72  DEAN   SWIFT   AND   HIS   PRINTER. 


conferred  by  the  Emperor  Cliailes  V.  on  the  Knifrhts  of  St.  John, 
l)V  whoni,  us  ah-eady  stated,  it  was  extensively  fortified. 

In  1798,  Napoleon  took  possession  of  it,  on  his  way  to  Egypt. 
Yon  may  be  sure  the  French  plundered  the  churches  and  the  hos- 
])ital  thoroughly  enough.  They  took  good  care  tliat  the  patron 
saint  of  the  island  should  no  longer  have  the  trouble  of  keeping 
that  large  treasure  in  the  churcli  at  Valetta.  In  1800,  the  Fiench 
garrison  yielded  to  the  British.  In  1814,  the  possession  of  it  was 
confirmed  to  this  nation  by  the  treaty  of  Paris.  The  present  popu- 
lation of  the  island  is  not  far  from  103,000. 


DEAN  SWIFT  AND  HIS  PRINTER. 

DEAN  SWIFT  was  a  great  enemy  to  extravagance  in  dress.  Of 
his  mode  of  reproving  this  folly  in  those  persons  for  wh(»m  he 
had  any  esteem,  the  following  instance  lias  been  recorded.  When 
George  Faulkner,  the  printer,  returned  from  London,  where  he  had 
liecn  soliciting  subscriptions  for  his  edition  of  the  Dean's  works,  he 
went  to  pay  his  respects  to  liim,  dressed  in  a  laced  waistcoat,  a  bag- 
wig,  and  other  foppeiies.  Swift  recf^ived  him  with  the  same  cere- 
mony as  if  he  had  been  a  stranger.  "Ami  pray,  sir,"  said  he, 
"  what  are  your  commands  with  me?"  "I  thought  it  was  my 
duty,  sir,"  replied  George,  "  to  wait  upon  you  immediately  nj)on 
my  arrival  from  London."  "  Pray  sir,  who  are  you  ?"  "  George 
Faulkner,  the  printer,  sir."  "  You  George  Faulkner,  the  jninter  ? 
Why  you  are  the  most  impudent,  barefaced  scoundrel  of  an  iujpos- 
ter  I  ever  met  with  !  George  Faulkner  is  a  plain,  sober  citizen,  and 
would  never  trick  himself  out  in  lace  and  other  fopperies.  Get  you 
gone,  you  rascal,  or  I  will  immediately  send  you  to  the  house  of 
correction."  Away  went  George  as  fast  as  lie  couKl,  and  having 
changed  his  dress,  returned  to  the  deanery,  where  he  was  receivt-d 
with  the  greatest  cordiality.  "  My  friend  George,"  said  the  <lean, 
"  1  am  glad  to  see  you  returned  safe  from  London.  Why,  here 
has  been  an  impudent  fellow  just  now,  dressed  in  a  laceil  waistcoat, 
and  he  would  fain  pass  iiimself  utt"  for  you,  but  1  soon,  seut  him  oil 
with  a  flea  in  his  ear." 


BLESSING   OF   THE    WATERS. 


78 


BLE33I]S^G  OF  THE  WATERS. 


TAKE  the  following  interesting-  account  of  a  religious 
ceremony  in  Russia  from  a  work  entitled  "  The  City 
of  the  Czar  :" 

On  the  18th  of  January,  which  is  the  Russian 
Twelfth-day,  a  religious  ceremony  takes  place  on  the  Neva, 
which  I  believe  has  no  parallel  in  any  other  country,  nidess 
we  adduce  the  now  obsolete  custom  at  Venice  of  the  Doge 
;ing  the  sea.  This  ceremony  is  oalled  the  blessing  of  the 
waters;  and  the  obj^-ct  is,  that  the  river  Neva  may,  by  the  prayers 
of  the  nation,  be  rendered  propitious  to  the  navigation,  and  all  other 
purposes  to  which  rivers  may  be  ajiplieable  in  the  neighborhood  of 
a  great  and  dirty  ca|)ital.  The  whole  population  of  St.  Petersburgh 
and  the  environs  is  collected  on  the  quays  to  witness  this  solemn 
invocation.  An  octagon  temple,  formed  of  w^ooden  trellis-work, 
adorned  with  pictures,  gilded  cherubs,  and  other  religious  emblems, 
is  erected  on  the  ice  opposite  to  the  winter  palace.  There  are 
four  entrances  to  this  pavihon,  which  is  approached  from  the  shore 
by  a  wooden  communication  built  on  massive  piles  ;  that  which 
faces  the  palace  is  decorated  with  a  picture  representmg  the  bap- 
tism of  our  Saviour  in  the  river  Jordan.  In  the  centre  of  this 
building  is  dug  a  large  hole  in  the  ice,  which,  at  this  season  of 
the  year,  is  generally  four  or  five  feet  in  depth  ;  as,  with  some  ap- 
pearance of  inconsistency,  the  nation  has  singled  out  thi-s  period 
for  blessing  the  waters,  when  the  climate  has  rendered  them  com- 
pletely invisible.  Over  this  aperture  is  suspended,  from  the  dome 
above,  the  figure  of  a  dove.  In  the  morning,  the  emperor,  empress, 
and  imperial  family,  with  the  court,  assist  at  divine  service  in  the 
chapel,  at  which  the  metropolitan  archbishop,  with  the  principal 
clergy,  preside;  this  service  lasts  from  11  till  12  o'clock.  At 
that  hour  the  procession  issues  from  the  palace  ;  in  front  appears 
a  priest  bearing  a  lantern  ;  then  others  with  a  cross,  banners,  and 

VOL.   V.  4  WY 


74  DEBT   AND   CREDIT. 


holy  images ;  the  court  choristers  precede  the  archbishop  and 
clergy,  who  are  arrayed  in  gorgeous  vestments,  with  flowing  beards  ; 
then  comes  the  pages  and  subalterns,  bearing  the  colors  of  the 
different  regiments  of  guards ;  last  of  all  the  emperor,  followed  by 
the  grand-dukes,  and  escorted  by  the  great  officers  of  state,  his 
military  staff',  generals,  and  courtiers,  all  bareheaded,  and  appar- 
ently impressed  with  the  solemnity  of  the  scene.  As  soon  as  the 
emperor  has  taken  his  position  at  one  of  the  doors  of  the  pavilion, 
the  bishop  recites  the  prayers,  and  the  choristers  sing  the  responses  ; 
the  blessing  is  performed  by  plunging  a  silver  cross  in  the  waters, 
of  which  a  vase  is  presented  to  his  majesty.  A  signal  rocket  an- 
nounces the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony,  and  the  cannon  from  the 
fortress  again  announces  to  the  cives  the  blessing  of  the  most  un- 
wholesome waters  in  all  Christendom.  The  empress  and  her  court 
are  seated  at  the  windows  of  the  palace  ;  the  foreign  ministers, 
&c.,  view  the  procession  from  those  of  the  Hermitage,  which  com- 
mand the  quays ;  but,  as  the  ceremony  itself  lasts  for  nearly 
twenty-five  minutes,  it  must  be  a  severe  trial  for  the  emperor  and 
his  suite  to  remain  so  long  uncovered  in  this  piercing  climate.  As 
soon  as  the  actors  in  this  curious  scene  liave  retired,  there  is  a 
general  rush  of  the  common  people  towards  the  temple  ;  mothers 
are  seen  plunging  their  infants  into  the  sacred  opening  which  luis 
been  made  in  the  river,  while  various  individuals  fill  their  pitchers 
with  the  holy  water,  and  carry  it  home  to  their  families,  undaunted 
by  the  severe  cold  which  freezes  it  during  their  walk.  On  the  same 
day,  at  Constantinople,  the  Greek  patriarch  performs  a  like  cere- 
mony.  He  throws  the  cross  into  the  sea  ;  and  it  is  asseited  that 
skillful  divers  eagerly  await  the  operation,  and  generally  succeed  in 
seizing  it  before  it  reaches  the  bottom. 


I 


DEBT  AND  CREDIT. 

It  is  not  a  little  singular,  that  the  letters  that  spell  debt,  are  the 
initials  of  the  sentence,  ''  Dim  Every  Body  Twice  ;"  and  the  letters 
which  spell  credit,  are  the  initials  of  the  sentence,  "  Call  Kegularly 
Every  Dav— I'll  Trust." 


ALPHONSO,    THE   RUNAWAY. 


75 


ALPHONSO,  THE  EUITAWAY. 


BY    Mas.    J.    H.    HAXAFORD. 


One  bright  morning  in  September  a  benevolent  lawyer  entered 
the  Court  House  of  his  native  city,  in  order  to  listen  to  the  trials 
of  several  persons  who  had  been  brought  before  the  Mayor  on  the 
charge  of  having,  on  the  previous  evening,  robbed  the  house  of  a 
wealthy  gentleman  residing  in  the  neighboring  town.  Among  the 
prisoners,  the  lawyer  noticed  a  lad  of  some  seventeen  years,  who 
appeared  in  great  distress,  weeping  bitterly,  wringing  his  hands, 
and  often  uttering  exclamations  in  a  low  voice.  Curiosity  to  know 
what  he  was  saying,  induced  the  lawyer  to  approach  the  lad,  and 
he  found  that  he  continually  repeated,  "  My  mother !  my#mother!" 
Convinced  that  one  who  then  thought  of  his  mother  could  not  be 
hardened  in  crime,  he  addressed  the  lad  in  kind  accents: 

"  Have  you  a  mother  living,  my  lad  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  I  hope  so,  sir,"  was  the  r  ^ply  ;  "  but  if  she  knew  I  was 
here,  as  a  prisoner,  oh  how  her  heart  would  ache  !" 


76  ALPHONSO,    THE   RUNAWAY. 


"Tlieii  she  is  a  good  woman  ?"  pursue*!  the  lawyer. 

"Oh  yes,  slie  taught  me  from  the  Bible  that  if  I  were  wicked, 
like  Jacob's  sons,  I  should  bring  her  'gray  hairs  in  sorrow  to  the 
grave,'  and  I  fear  I  shall.     Oh  my  mother  !  my  mother  !" 

The  lawyer  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  lad,  and,  on  fuither  in- 
quiry, found  that  he  v;as  a  ruffaway  from  his  pleasant  country 
home,  because  he  was  tired  of  being  on  a  farm,  and  wished  to  see 
more  of  the  world,  and  perhaps  be  a  sailor  and  visit  distant  lands. 
On  arriving  in  the  city,  with  no  friend  to  warn  him  ngainst  vicious 
associates,  he  accepted  the  company  of  the  first  who  sonoht  his 
acquaintance,  and  who  proved  to  be  house-breakers,  who  were 
looking  for  a  lad  to  aid  them  in  some  of  their  evil  sihemes,  and 
selected  him  because  he  looked  like  a  country  boy,  who  knew  not 
enough  of  city  life  to  betray  iheni.  And  when  they  found  he  was 
a  runaway,  with  no  money  and  only  a  little  bundle  ttf  clothes,  they 
dared  to  treat  him  shamefully,  and  compelled  him  to  aid  tlifui  in 
entering  the  house  which  the}',  robbed,  knowing  that  l^*•  had  no 
friends  near  to  rescue  him  from  theii-  poifer.  With  great  reluctance 
he  obeyed  them,  and  at  last  found  himself  arrested  by  the  ])oIicf, 
and,  with  his  wicked  companions,  was  now  to  be  tried  as  a  thi»'f. 
The  thouirht  of  the  distress  his  mother  would  feel,  if  she  knew  the 
disgrace  which  was  the  sad  consequence  of  her  son's  running  away, 
was  harder  to  him  than  the  long  imprisoimient  which  he  had  rea 
son  to  expect.  The  lawyer  pitied  him,  and  perceiving  that  he 
was  innocent  of  the  intent  to  steal,  plead  his  cause  so  successfully 
that  he  was  acquitted,  while  all  the  rest  were  condemned  to  the 
State's  Prison,  lie  then  aided  Lim  to  return  to  his  home,  ;md 
Alphonso,  the  runaway,  bade  him  farewell,  wiili  the  words,  ''  Sir, 
I  shall  remember  you  with  gratitude  as  long  as  I  live,  and  will 
never  be  a  runaway  again.  I  shall  tell  all  to  my  mother,  and  she 
will  pray  for  you,  that  no  son  of  yours  may  bring  your  '  gray 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave.'  And  I  will  warn  my  young  ac- 
quaintances from  my  evil  course,  and  teach  them  that  the  [)alh 
of  duly  is  the  only  path  of  peace  and  happiness." 


THE  LAST  MUSQUITO. 


77 


THE  LAST  MUSQUITO. 


J  NDULGE  me  a  moment,  reader,  while  I  hold  up  to  your 
I  ,,:|    vision  a  picture  of  the  last  musquito.     You  have  heai  d 
of  the  "  hist  of  the  Mohicans."     Walter  Scott  ha^  made 
',  "^-.^  you  familiar  enono-h  with  the  "last  Vich  Ihan  Vohr." 

J^\  You  have  read,  sung,  perhaps  cried  over,  the  "last  liidc." 
/^  '  Doubtless  you  have  treated  "  the  last  rose  of  summer"  in 
the  same  way  ;  and  the  "  lay  of  the  last  minstrel"  you  have 
almost  got  by  heart.  Why,  then,  should  you  not  accord  a  little 
civility  to  the  last  of  a  race  of  minstrels  who  have  serenaded  you 
in  the  night  watches  for  a  whole  summer  and  three  quarters  of 
an  autumn — who  have  flitted,  sylph-like,  about  your  pillow,  on  un- 
wearied wing,  from  the  evening  twilight  until  the  dawn  of  the 
morning,  and  who — but  I  will  pause  here,  lest  I  draw  tears  from 
your  eyes,  while  I  am  drawing  a  picture  for  them  to  look  at ;  and 
instead  of  pleading  for  your  sympathy  in  behalf  of  the  musquito 
race  in  general,  I  will  ask  you  to  look  at  a  single  individual  of  his 
species — the  last  musquito. 

One  night  in  November,  at  a  somewhat  later  hour  than  usual, 
quite  tiled  out  with  my  day's  labors,  I  threw  myself  upon  my  bej 
to  lest.  It  was  a  beautiful  night.  The  air  was  mild.  The  skj 
was  unclouded.  The  moon,  then  nearly  at  its  full,  lighted  up 
landscape  on  the  banks  of  the  noble  Hudson,  which  some  enthu- 
siasts might  have  crossed  the  ocean  to  gaze  upon,  but  which  I  saw 
without  leaving  my  room.  Everything  around  me  was  still.  Even 
Beau  Nash,  who,  doubtless  mistaking  the  deep  moonlight  for  the 
early  rays  of  the  sun,  had  crowed  two  or  three  times,  very  loudly, 
a  half  hour  before,  had  relapsed  into  silence,  a  little  ashamed  of 
his  blunder.  The  dogs  had  all  got  tired  of  "  baying  the  moon," 
having  settled  down  into  the  comfortable  conviction,  that  thoni;li 
the  baying  was  tolerable  good  sport,  it  would  hardly  pay  to  split 
their  throats.     Philosophical  dogs,  were  they  not?     The  crickots 


'^^8  THE   LAST   MUSQUITO. 


under  tlie  hearth — thoug-h,  by  the  way,  when  I  come  to  think  of 
it,  I  have  no  hearth,  and  of  course  I  mean  the  crickets  under  the 
hearth  that  I  might,  could,  would,  or  should  have  liad — were  as 
silent  as  the  grave.  There  is  something  in  the  hush  of  night 
almost  painful  to  me.  The  ear  listens  anxiously  to  catch  some 
sound,  as  an  evidence  that  all  the  world  is  not  dead.  While  lis- 
tening thus  for  a  moment,  before  closing  and  barring  the  doors 
of  the  mind  for  the  night,  a  voice  that  seemed  familiar  met  my 
ear.  It  was  as  ftiint  as  the  last  note  of  the  zephyr  playing  over 
the  strings  of  an  ^olian  harp.  Nearer  and  nearer  the  sound 
came,  until  the  wing  of  the  minstrel  brushed  my  cheek.  Reader, 
it  was  a  musquito — the  last  knight  of  the  long  spear.  His  voice 
was  clear  and  distinct,  but  more  languid  than  the  ordinary  tone 
of  the  music  of  his  race,  and  I  thought  the  pitch  was  more  uni- 
formly/a/ic^/c).  Certain  it  is,  that  the  mode  of  the  air  was  minor 
throughout.  It  had  a  truly  funereal  tone.  With  the  notes  of  the 
musquito  still  falling  on  my  ear,  a  mistiness  came  over  my  vision, 
and  a  sort  of  clairvoyance  seemed  to  succeed,  pending  which  my 
little  songster  and  I  got  quite  cosy  with  each  other.  I  might  have 
said  to  the  fellow,  I  suppose,  with  as  much  propriety  as  Hamlet 
showed  in  the  matter  of  his  fancied  visitant, 

"Thou   coma't  in   aucb   a  questionable   shape, 
That  I  will   speak   to  •thee." 

But  I  did  say  no  such  thing.  Nor  did  I  take  on  as  a  certain  Poe-i 
once  did,  when  he  heard  a  scratching  in  his  bed-room,  over  his 
"  chamber-door,"  if  I  recollect  aright.  I  was  silent,  wliile  the  mus- 
quito spoke,  or  seemed  to  speak,  in  words  like  these  : 

"I  am  about  to  die.  I  have  survived  all  my  race.  You  behold 
before  you  the  last  musquito.  I  come  to  sing  my  last  song.  You 
perceive  that,  like  the  swan,  my  last  notes  are  the  sweetest.  I  de- 
sire to  die  in  peace  with  all  mankind.  There  is  something  lies 
heavy  on  my  conscience.  I  have  been  a  bloody  musquito.  I  have 
led  a  freebooting  life.  More  than  once  have  I  disturbed  your  peace- 
ful dreams.  I  have  thrust  my  poisoned  lance  into  your  veins,  and 
drank  your  blood.  I  have  been  more  cruel  than  Nero.  That  mon- 
ster waxed  musical  over  a  burning  city.     I  hav^e  suno^  joyfully  over 


THE    LAST   MUSQUITO.  79 

scenes  of  human  torture.  Xapoleon  himself  could  scarcely  have 
been  happier  in  aggrandizing  his  own  name,  at  the  expense  of 
the  death  of  two  or  three  millions  of  men,  than  I  have  been  in  my 
work  of  carnage.  Oh,  what  a  great  sinner  I  have  been  all  my  life 
long.  But  now,  as  I  draw  near  the  grave,  my  sins  stare  me  in  the 
face,  and  the  big  drops  of  anguish,  as  you  see,  roll  down  my  cheeks. 
Pardon,  dear  sir,  pardon  a  poor,  dying  musquito,  who  now  sin- 
cerely repents  of  all  his  sins,  and  aims  to  die  in  peace." 

I  was  about  to  reply  to  this  touching  harangue,  in  a  not  veiy 
amiable  mood,  recollecting,  as  I  did,  the  cruel  way  in  which  I  had 
been  treated  by  his  musquitoship,  when  a  solitary  fly,  who  had 
overheard  these  words,  saved  me  the  trouble  by  himself  addressing 
the  dying  freebooter. 

"  You  little,  mean,  sniveling  varlet !"  said  he,  rather  too  artly, 
I  thought,  "  I  hope  you've  got  breath  enough  left  in  your  body  to 
listen  a  minute  to  a  bit  of  comfort  from  a  poor  fly.  Please  don't 
die  quite  yet,  until  you  hear  my  speech.  A  pretty  chap  you  are,  to 
come  here  with  your  repentance  at  this  late  day,  with  one  foot  in 
the  grave,  and  the  rest  used  up  with  palsy.  You  whining  hypo- 
ciite  1  I'll  strip  the  mask  from  your  face,  at  all  events,  before  you 
quit  the  world.  What  did  you  alight  on  that  man's  nose  for  a 
moment  ago  ?  Ah,  you  may  well  cover  up  your  face.  You  dare 
not  deny  that  you  came  on  purpose  to  take  a  last  sip  of  his 
blood.  But  finding  you  hadn't  strength  enough  left  to  tap  his 
veins,  you  gave  up  that  job,  and  turned  saint  all  at  once.  What 
a  precious  piece  of  penitence.  You  have  been  a  'gi-eat  sinner,' 
you  tell  us.  Ha!  ha!  The  'ruling  passion  strong  in  death.' 
Your  very  last  words  are  lies.  A  great  sinner,  forsooth  !  Why 
you  are  the  smallest,  paltriest  specimen  of  a  sinner  that  ever  went 
unhung  in  the  world.  Then  as  to  the  big  drops  of  grief  that 
you  are  so  pious  as  to  shed.  You  little  liar  !  The  point  of  a 
needle  would  hold  fifty  such  drops.  Besides,  you  cried  and  took 
on  in  that  style,  because  you  had  lost  the  power  to  suck  human 
blood — nothino-  else  in  the  world.  Alexander  shed  crocodile  tears 
because  there  was  not  another  human  race  that  he  could  try  his 
sword  upon.  Your  whining  came  from  a  slightly  diff"erent  cause. 
Those  '  big  tears'  that  you  bragged  about,  were  shed,  not  because 


80  A  FEARLESS   BOY. 


you  wanted  the  victims,  but  because  you  couldn't  get  the  sword. 
You  know  as  well  as  I  do,  that  if  you  could  grow  young  again,  by 
some  juggler's  trick,  you  would  be  just  such  a  sinner  as  you  al- 
Avays  have  been.  O  you  little  hypocrite  !  I'm  sorry  enough  you 
can't  live  a  minute  longer,  only  a  minute,  just  to  hear  the  winding- 
up  of  my  sermon.     It  would  comfort  your  little  heart  so  much  !" 

The  last  musquito  was  dead;  and  the  fly  set  up  such  a  buzz 
of  joy,  that  it  awoke  me. 

"  Ah,  you  had  been  dreaming,  then  ?" 

Yes,  dieaming,  dreaming  tolerably  wide  awake  a  part  of  the 
time,  if  the  truth  must  come  out,  though  the  advent  of  the  No- 
vember musquito  is  no  fable.  But,  reader,  can't  you  pick  a  whole- 
some lesson  out  of  the  threads  of  ray  dream? 


A  FEARLESS  BOY. 


A  VESSEL  was  overtaken  with  a  terrific  hurricane  in  the  middle 
of  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  After  the  most  astonishing  efforts  to 
weather  the  storm,  the  awful  intelligence  of  the  captain  broke  on 
the  ear  of  the  passengers,  "  The  ship  is  on  her  beam  ends;  she  will 
never  right  again  ;  death  is  certain." 

"  Not  at  all,  sir  !  not  at  all,  sir  !"  exclaimed  a  little  sailor  boy, 
"God  will  save  us  yet." 

"Why  do  you  think  so  ?"  said  the  captain,  with  strong  feeling 
and  astonishment. 

"  Because,  sir,  at  this  moment  they  are  praying  under  the  Bethel 
flag,  in  the  city  of  Glasgow,  for  all  sailors  in  distress,  and  us  among 
the  rest ;  and  God  will  hear  their  prayers  ;  now  see  if  he  don't.^^ 

The  captain,  an  old  weather-beaten  tar,  exclaimed,  with  the  tears 
running  down  his  cheeks,  "  God  grant  that  their  prayers  may  be 
heard  in  our  behalf,  my  little  preacher  !" 

At  that  moment  a  great  wave  struck  the  ship,  and  righted  her. 
A  simultaneous  shout  of  exultation,  gratitude,  and  praise,  louder 
than  the  storm,  went  up  to  God.  A  few  days  after  the  uoble  ship 
rode  safely  into  New  York  harbor. 


^U^cd  ^/oy^^  iiT^^^^^^g^ge 


GENERAL   AVEZZANA. 


83 


I 


GENERAL  AYEZZANA. 


EiNG  a  plain  citizen,  and  unused  to  mingle  much 
l^^'  in  the  political  world,  it  is  hardly  proper,  I  sup- 

pose, for  me  to  dip  very  deeply  into  politics.  But 
one  cannot  help  having  an  opinion  of  his  own  about 
matters  and  things.  At  all  events,  I  have  such  an 
opinion,  and  I  cannot  well  get  rid  of  it.  When  I  look 
/  at  the  different  nations  of  the  world,  and  perceive  how 
they  are  governed  and  misgoverned,  I  cannot  avoid  having  my 
own  notions  about  these  governments  and  misgovernments.  Well, 
among  the  political  notions  I  have,  is  this  :  that  the  Italian  States 
are  very  badly  governed,  and  that  that  portion  of  Italy  which  the 
Pope  pretends  to  own,  is  the  worst  governed  of  the  whole.  I  do 
not,  however,  jump  to  the  conclusion  that  the  revolutions  of  1848 
and  1849,  if  they  had  been  successful,  would  all  have  been  just 
the  thing.  It  seems,  to  be  sure,  a  great  pity  that  the  French  did 
not  let  Rome  alone  long  enough  to  give  the  Republicans  time  to 
try  their  experiment.  Some  of  the  men  who  were  foremost  in 
ovei-thrownng  the  Roman  government  for  the  time  being,  and  es- 
tablishing republicanism,  were  certainly  no  ordinar}^  characters. 
They  had  no  common  minds.  Take  Avezzana,  for  instance.  He 
was  a  noble  commander,  and,  for  aught  that  appears  to  the  con- 
trary, a  genuine  patriot. 

Guiseppe  Avezzana  was  born  in  Piedmont.  While  a  young  man, 
in  1824,  he  took  up  arms,  at  the  head  of  "the  students  of  Alexan- 
dria, to  commence  the  revolution  there,  when  an  Austiian  army 
had  gone  to  fight  the  Liberals  in  Naples.  He  next  fought  for  the 
constitution  in  Spain,  and  afterwards  went  to  Mexico.  The  Spanish 
language  is  so  much  like  the  Italian,  that  the  Italians  learn  to 
speak  it  much  sooner  than  English.  He  had  be^n  in  Mexico  but 
a  short  time,  when  the  Spanish  army  arrived,  to  re-conquer  that 
country ;  but  the  people  repulsed  them  ;  and  Avezzana  fought  so 


84  THE   FIRST   SAW-MILL. 

well  against  the  invaders,  that  he  was  made  a  General.  He  spent 
some  years  in  New  York  ;  and  in  1848  went  to  Italy,  where  he 
signalized  himself  at  Genoa  and  Rome. 

Much  is  said  of  the  courage  and  skill  of  the  ancient  Romans,  in 
the  histories  which  are  read  by  our  young  people;  but  they  will 
find,  in  the  history  of  the  Roman  Republic  of  1849,  accounts  of  a 
noble  struggle  for  higher  principles,  and  conducted  with  a  more 
achnirable  spirit.  The  object  of  the  patriots  was  to  support  the 
freedom  which  they  had  established,  and  which  the  Pope  wished 
to  overthrow.  He  had  called  for  a  French  army,  which  bombarded 
Rome,  killed  many  people,  injured  the  ancient  monuments  and  fine 
pictures,  and  finally  prevailed  and  restored  the  old  tyranny. 


THE  FIRST  SAW-MILL. 


THE  old  practice  in  making  boards  was  to  split  up  the  logs  with 
wedges  ;  and  inconvenient  as  the  practice  was,  it  was  no  easy 
thing  to  persuade  the  world  that  it  could  be  done  in  a  better  way. 
Saw-mills  were  first  used  in  Europe  in  the  loth  century  ;  but,  so 
late  as  1555,  an  English  ambassador,  having  seen  a  saw-mill  in 
France,  thought  it  a  novelty  which  deserved  a  particular  descrip- 
tion. It  is  amusing  to  see  how  the  aversion  to  labor-saving  ma- 
chinery has  always  agitated  England.  The  first  saw-mill  was  es- 
tablished by  a  Dutchman,  in  1663  ;  but  the  pubHc  outcry  agaijist 
the  new-fangled  machine  was  so  violent,  that  the  proprietor  was 
forced  to  decamp  with  more  expedition  than  ever  a  Dutchman  did 
before.  The  evil  was  thus  kept  out  of  England  for  several  years, 
or  rather  generations;  but,  in  1768,  an  unlucky  timber  merchant, 
hoping  that  after  so  long  a  time  the  public  would  be  less  watchful 
of  its  own  interest,  made  a  rash  attemj^t  to  construct  another  mill. 
The  guardians  of  the  public  welfare,  however,  were  on  the  alert, 
and  a  conscientious  mob  at  once  collected  and  pulled  the  mill  to 
pieces.  Such  patriotic  spirit  could  not  always  last,  and  now, 
though  we  have  nowhere  seen,  the  fact  distinctly  stated,  there  is 
.•reason  to  believe  that  saw-mills  are  used  in  England. 


THE    DISCONTENTED   WEATHERCOCK. 


85 


THE  DISCOISTEXTED  WEATHERCOCK. 


WEATHERCOCK  that  had,  for  I  know  not  how  long, 
swung  backwards  and  forwards  on  a  tall  pole  near 
an  old  country  house,  became,  at  last,  strangely  dis- 
r-^-'    contented  with   its  lot.     How  it  came    about  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  say  ;  but  so  it  was,  that  to  itself  it 
^^     expressed  a  distinct  opinion  that  it  was  created  for  some- 
thing better  than  to  twist  and  turn  every  day,  and  all  day  long, 
just  to  let  countiy  folks  know  which  way  the  wind  blew. 

"  AYhat  a  life,"  said  our  weathercock,  "  do  I  lead  !  creak — creak — 
ci'eak,  all  day,  and  all  night  too — never  enjoying  a  moment's  re- 
pose save  at  the  pleasure  of  these  good-for-nothing  breezes,  that  are 
nearly  always  blowing  about  me,  and  that  make  a  point  of  taking 
both  their  rest  and  exercise  at  such  times  as  are  least  agreeable  to 
me.  1  do  believe  they  change  about  to  all  the  points  of  the  com- 
pass for  no  other  reason  than  to  tease  and  thwart  me.  In  the  sum- 
mer, when  I  was  languid,  and  suffering  because  I  could  not  get 
change  of  air,  (which  the  odious  way  in  which  I  am  fixed  up  here 
renders  impossible,)  the  slightest  puff,  even  an  east  wind,  would 
have  been  a  real  comfort  to  me  ;  but  it  was  not  to  be  had.  Now, 
this  blessed  New  Year's  day,  for  a  whole  week  I  have  been  kept  in 
such  a  constant  state  of  agitation,  and  spun  round  so  often,  that  I 
declare  I  am  quite  giddy.  There  are  Hobnail  and  Cabbagestalk 
coming  every  morning  to  look  at  me,  without,  apparently,  a  single 
thought  about  the  unpleasantness  of  my  position.  How  would 
they  like  it,  I  wonder  !  Only  give  them  a  week  of  it,  and  1-11  en- 
gage they  would  be  more  thankful  to  get  back  again  to  their  plough 
and  spade  than  ever  they  were  to  throw  them  down  after  a  hard 
day's  work.     To  think  of  mi/  abilities   being  wasted   up   here  I 


86  THE  discoin'tented  weathercock. 

Why,  if  I  were  only  loose,  I  am  sure  I  could  fly  as  well  as  a  bird. 
How  I  would  astonish  the  people  !  I  should  fly  right  over  the 
house,  and  then  to  the  church  steeple,  like  the  rooks — and  look 
much  handsomer  than  they,  too,  for  their  black  jackets  can't  be 
compared  to  my  gilded  sides.  They  look  well  enough  even  here, 
when  the  sun  shines  upon  them;  bat  fluttering  through  the  air — 
O  that  would  be  beautiful  !  Flying,  I  am  sure,  is  the  easiest  thing  ' 
in  the  world.  And  then,  traveling  does  so  improve  the  mind  and 
manners  !  I  am  a  complete  rustic — nay,  a  clown — with  having 
spent  all  my  life  in  this  out-of-the-way  place." 

And  with  that,  the  weathercock  gave  itself  a  good  twitch.  But 
that  had  only  the  effect  of  making  it  spin  round  ;  and  it  was  as  far 
off  flying  as  ever.  Then  it  tried  turning  obstinate,  and  for  three 
days  contrived  not  to  move  an  inch,  though  there  was  so  brisk  a 
gale  blowing  that,  being  washrng-day,  more  garments  than  I  can 
mention  were  blown  off  the  clothes-line,  and  carried  away  to — Jer- 
icho, I  suppose,  for  they  never  came  back  again. 

But  Hobnail  got  a  tall  ladder,  and  set  it  up  against  the  tall  pole, 
and  climbing  very  clumsily  to  the  top,  he  gave  the  weathercock 
such  an  oiling,  that  it  could  not,  for  the  life  of  it,  stand  still  a  mo- 
ment, but  went  on,  trembling  and  shaking  like  an  aspen  leaf. 

However,  at  last,  I  believe  it  managed  to  wriggle  out  some  of  its 
fastenings;  for  one  day,  when  it  was  fretting  and  grumbling  as 
usual,  jerking  and  twitching  itself  like  a  petulant  child,  and  saying, 
"  If  I  was  only  loose," — sough^  came  a  gust  of  wind,  that  in  a 
thrice  whisked  it  otf  the  pole,  and  up  into  the  air  in  a  most  grati- 
fying manner. 

"  Here  goes  for  the  steeple  !"  exclaimed  the  weathercock,  exult- 
ingly.  But  alas  !  its  upward  flight  was  but  for  an  instant.  The 
next  moment,  do\Nn  it  came  clattering  in  the  court-yard  ! 

All  bent  and  dirty,  the  stable  boy  found  it  next  morning,  and 
gave  it  a  kick,  which  was  not  very  agreeable  to  its  feelings.  How- 
ever he  picked  it  up.  It  next  received  a  severe  discipline  at  the 
hands  of  a  blacksmith,  who  beat  it  straight  upon  his  anvil  ;  but  it 
got  no  more  gilding.  And  finally.  Hobnail  climbed  again  clum- 
sily up  the  tall  ladder,  and  fixed  it  in  its  old  place,  just  over  the 
ofljces  at  the  back  of  that  old,  old  country  house. 


WHY   IS   THE   SEA   SALT  ? 


87 


WHY  IS  THE  SEA  SALT  ? 


THAT  is  a  question  which  is  very  easy  to  ask,  but  not  quite  so  easy 
to  answer.  There  is  an  odd  story  current  in  Norway  and 
Denmark  touching  the  matter,  which  will  make  you  laugh,  if  it 
accomplish  no  other  end.  I  don't  suppose  you  will  believe  it.  I 
know  you  have  too  much  good  sense  for  that.  But  as  strange  and 
fanciful  as  it  is,  there  are  a  great  many  people  in  the  northern  part 
of  Euiope  who  are  superstitious  enough  to  credit  it  from  beginning 
to  end.     The  story  is  something  like  this  : 

In  ancient  times,  two  brothers  lived  near  each  other.  The  one 
was  rich  and  the  other  poor.  One  Christmas  day,  the  poor  one 
went  to  the  rich  one,  and  asked  him  for  some  food  to  carry  home 
to  his  family.  The  other  brother — we  will  call  his  name  Peter — 
gave  John  a  ham,  and  the  latter  started  homeward.  On  his  way 
to  his  house,  he  had  to  pass  through  a  forest,  in  which  he  saw  a 
strange-looking  woodman,  with  his  axe.  From  the  woodman  he 
learned  that  there  were  some  pigmies,  or  dwarfs,  living  underground 
in  those  parts,  and  that  if  he  chose,  he  could  barter  the  ham  with 


88  WHY  IS   THE   SEA   SALT? 

tliem  for  an  article  of  great  value  ;  that  they  had  a  hand-mill  ca- 
pable of  accomplishing  inost  wonderful  feats,  and  that  they  were  so 
fond  of  ham,  that  they  would  take  it  in  exchange  for  the  mill. 
John  was  shown  the  entrance  to  the  dwelling  of  the  little  people, 
and  proposed  to  trade  on  the  terms  suggested  by  the  woodman. 
The  bargain  was  made.  The  mill  was  obtained  and  taken  home, 
the  woodman  having  first  instructed  the  poor  man  how  to  manage 
it,  so  that  it  would  grind  out  all  manner  of  good  things.  Thefiist 
thing  John  did,  after  he  got  home,  was  to  grind  out  his  supper, 
which  was  a  very  good  one.  Then  he  ground  out  coal,  and  a  nicer 
bed  than  he  had  before.  In  fact,  as  the  silly  story  goes,  he  finally 
got  everything  he  wanted  out  of  the  mill  ;  and  after  his  own  wants 
were  all  supplied,  he  ground  out  food  and  clothing  for  the  poor. 
At  length,  a  great  foreign  merchant  came  that  way,  having  heard 
of  the  fame  of  the  mill,  and  asked  the  owner  if  it  would  grind 
salt.  On  being  informed  that  it  would,  he  oflfered  a  very  large 
])i  ice  for  it,  as  the  principal  part  of  liis  business  was  dealing  in  salt. 
Tlie  poor  man,  however,  refused  to  part  with  his  mill  on  any 
terms.  So  the  merchant  determined  he  would  take  it  on  his  own 
terms,  and  bribed  one  of  the  servants  of  the  owner  to  give  it  up  to 
him.  He  took  it  on  board  of  his  ship.  Having  got  some  distance 
out  at  sea,  he  determined  he  would  set  the  mill  at  work,  as  he  saw 
no  reason  why  it  should  be  idle.  lie  directed  it  to  grind  salt,  with 
all  its  might;  and  it  went  to  grinding  salt  with  all  its  might.  The 
sailors  beiran  to  fill  the  sacks  with  it ;  but  their  sacks  were  soon 
full — the  ship  was  soon  full — and,  in  spite  of  all  that  could  be 
(lone  to  shovel  it  overboard,  it  filled,  and  filled,  more  than  ever. 
The  dishonest  merchant  now  was  frightened  ;  and  throw  the  mill 
overboard  he  would  not ;  but  what  was  to  be  done  ?  It  would  not 
stop  grinding:  and  at  last  the  ship  was  so  full  that,  in  spite  of 
all  the  shoveling  overboard,  down  it  went,  making  a  great  whirl- 
pool when  it  sunk  1  The  ship  itself  went  to  pieces  very  shortly  ; 
but  the  mill  stands  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  and  to  this  day  keeps 
griading  on  salt,  nothing  but  salt !  And  that  is  the  reason,  say 
many  of  the  peasants  of  Denmark  and  Norway,  why  the  sea  is 
salt. 

"  But  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  that  story." 


IXCxENUITY    OF    THE    I^~1)IAXS.  89 


Of  course  you  don't.  I  didn't  tell  it  to  have  it  believed,  but  to 
sliow  YOU  what  stupid  things  ignorant  and  superstitious  people  can 
be  made  to  believe. 


IISTGEISrUITY  OF  THE  CALIFOEKIA  INDIANS. 

rpHE  Indians  in  California,  known  as  the  Diggers,  have  the  art 
-L  of  weaving  willow  baskets  so  closely  that  they  will  hold  water. 
And  what  is  more  remarkable,  they  actually  boil  their  pounded 
acorns  or  bag  of  flour  in  them  for  want  of  kettles.  This  is  done  by 
putting  in  pot-stones.  Here  is  an  account  of  an  Indian  breakfiist, 
from  Ross's  Adventures  in  Oregon  : 

"  On  the  17th  we  were  paddling  along  at  daylight.  On  putting 
ashore  for  breakfast,  four  Indians  on  horseback  joined  us.  The 
moment  they  alighted,  one  set  about  hobbling  their  horses,  another 
to  gather  small  sticks,  a  third  to  make  a  fire,  and  a  fourth  to 
catch  fish.  For  this  purpose  the  fisherman  cut  off  a  bit  of  kis 
leather  skirt,  about  the  size  of  a  bean  ;  then  pulling  out  two  or  three 
hairs  from  his  horse's  tail  for  a  line,  tied  the  bit  of  leather  to  one 
end  of  it,  in  the  place  of  a  hook  or  fly.  Thus  prepared,  he  entered 
the  river  a  little -*.vay,  sat  down  on  a  stone,  and  begun  throwing  the 
small  fish,  three  or  four  inches  long,  on  shore,  just  as  fast  as  he 
pleased,  and  while  thus  employed,  another  picked  them  up  and 
threw  them  towaids  the  tire,  while  the  third  stuck  them  up  around 
in  a  circle  on  small  sticks  ;  and  they  were  no  sooner  up  than  roasted. 
The  fellows  then  sitting  down,  swallowed  them — heads,  tails,  bones, 
fins,  and  all — in  no  time,  just  as  any  one  would  swallow  the  yolk 
of  an  e^g.  Now  all  was  but  the  work  of  a  few  minutes  ;  and  be- 
fore our  man  had  his  kettle  ready  for  the  fire,  the  Indians  were  eat- 
ing their  breakfast.  When  Jie  fish  had  got  hold  of  the  bit  of  leather, 
or  bait,  their  teeth  got  entangled  in  it,  so  as  to  give  him  time  to  jerk 
them  on  shore,  which  was  to  us  a  new  method  of  angling.  Fire  pro- 
duced by  two  bits  of  wood,  was  also  a  novelty  ;  but  what  surprised  us 
most  of  all  was  the  regularity  with  which  they  proceeded,  and  the 
quickness  of  the  whole  process,  wdiicli  actually  took  them  less  time 
than  it  has  taken  me  to  note  it  down." 


90 


THE    BEDOUIN  S   DECEIT. 


THE  BEDOUIN'S  DECEIT. 


)_9-^- 


AMARTiNE  tells  the  following  beautiful  story  :  In  tbe 
tribe  of  Neggtk-n  there  was  a  horse,  whose  fame  was 
''^^    spread  far  and  near,  and  a  Bedouin  of  another  tribe, 
by  name  Daher,  desired   extremely  to  possess  it. 
-'i''*'     '  Having  offered  in  vain  for  it  his  camels  and  his 

whole  wealth,  he  at  length  hit  upon  the  following  device,  by  which 
he  hoped  to  gain  the  object  of  his  desire.  He  resolved  to  stain  his 
face  with  the  juice  of  an  herb,  to  clothe  himself  in  rags,  to  tie  his 
legs  and  neck  together,  so  as  to  appear  like  a  lame  beggar.  Ti)us 
equipped,  he  went  to  wait  for  Naber,  the  owner  of  the  horse,  whom 
he  knew  was  to  pass  that  way.  When  he  saw  Naber  approaching 
on  his  beautiful  steed,  he  cried  out  in  a  weak  voice,  "  I  am  a  poor 
stranger:  for  three  days  I  have  been  unable  to  move  from  this 
spot  to  seek  for  food.  I  am  dying  ;  help  me,  and  heaven  will  re- 
ward you."  The  Bedouin  kindly  offered  to  take  him  up  on  his 
horse  and  carry  him  home,  but  the  rogue  replied,  "  I  cannot  rise  ;  I 
have  no  strength  left."  Naber,  touched  with  pity,  dismounted,  led 
his  horse  to  the  spot,  and,  with  great  difficulty,  set  the  seeming 
beggar  on  its  back.  But  no  sooner  did  Daher  feel  himself  in  the 
saddle,  than  he  set  spurs  to  the  horse  and  galloped  off,  calling  out 
as  he  did  so — "  It  is  I,  Daher.  I  have  got  the  horse,  and  am  off 
with  it."  Naber  called  after  him  to  stop  and  listen.  Certain  of 
not  being  pursued,  he  turned, «,and  halted  at  a  short  distance  from 
Naber,  who  was  armed  with  a  spear.  "  You  have  taken  my  horse," 
said  the  latter.  "  Since  heaven  has  willed  it,  I  wish  you  joy  of  it, 
but  I  do  conjure  you  never  to  tell  any  one  how  you  obtained  it." 
"  And  why  not?"  asked  Daher.  "  Because,"  said  the  noble  Arab, 
"  another  man  might  be  really  ill,  and  men  would  fear  to  help  him. 
You  would  be  the  cause  of  many  refusing  to  perform  an  act  of 
charity,  for  fear  of  being  duped  as  I  have  been."  Struck  with 
shame  at  these  words,  Daher  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  spring- 
ing from  the  horse,  returned  it  to  its  ownej-,  embracing  him. 


EDITOKIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


91 


EDITOEIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


r-A  HE  .nn.ngrams  of  J.  H.  nre  not  original.  That  is  rea- 
^  son  enough  why  they  should  not  be  published. — . 
The  letter  of  T.  P.  H.  I  read  carefully,  and  I  am  going 
to  preserve  it  among  other  tokens  of  friendship  and 
ion. — My  friend  "  Grace  Greenwood"  will  accept  my 
:s  for  her  kind  words.  By  the  way,  she  is  now  the  edi- 
tor of  an  extremely  pretty  and  racy  children's  paper,  called 
the  "Little  Pilgrim." — To  "  Jennie  :"  I  cannot  answer  your 
question.  IMy  memory  refuses  to  give  me  a  thimble-full  of  aid  in  the 
matter. — ^'  Sallie,"  our  (Correspondent  in  Missouri,  will  please  accept 
our  warm  thanks  for  the  kind  interest  she  has  taken  in  procuring  sub- 
scribers for  the  Cabinet. — To  "  Magnolia  :"  The  Child's  Dream  is  very 
well  written.  If  my  poetical  drawer  were  not  so  full,  I  should  certainly 
publish  it. — "  Eva,"  let  us  hear  from  you  often.  You  have  a  fac- 
ulty for  amusing  others,  as  well  as  a  capacity  for  being  amused,-.-Little 
Charlie  is  informed  that  a  portrait  of  the  editor  (rather  an  indifferent 
one,  it  is  pretty  generally  conceded)  has  already  been  published.  It 
appeared  in  the  number  for  January,  1848, — I  must  decline  the  propo- 
sition that  comes  to  me  from  Shiloh,  N.  J. 


THE    GAME    OF    PROVERBS. 

"  I  know  a  capital  game,"  said  our  friend  Willie. 

"  What  is  itT'  exclaimed  several  voices. 

"Proverbs." 

"Oh  !  yes,  we  all  know  how  to  play  at  that,"  said  Sarah. 

"  /don't,"  said  Fanny, 

"  Nor  I,"  said  little  Nelly.     "  How  do  you  play  it  ?" 

"  Why,  one  of  us  goes  out  and  the  rest  tix  upon  some  proverb  ;  then 
he  comes  in,  and  asks  each  of  us  in  turn  a  question," 

"  What  sort  of  question  ?" 

"  Oh  !  anything  he  happens  to  tiiink  of,  and  we  must  all  say  one  of 
the  words  of  the  proverb  in  turn  in  our  answers;  but  we  will  try  it 


92  EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 

once,  and  you  will  soon  catch  the  idea.  I'm  afraid,  though,  that  there 
are  hardly  enough  of  us." 

"  No  matter,"  said  Willie,  "  we  can  each  give  two  answers." 

"Shall  /come  and  swell  your  ranks  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Love,  who  had 
been  watching  for  some  time  the  animated  little  speakers. 

*'  Oh  !  yes,  do,  that's  a  dear  good  mother." 

"Take  the  rocking-chair.  Aunt  Mary,"  said  Willie,  jumping  up. 
"Here's  the  footstool.  Stir  up  the  fire,  Fan,  and  let's  have  a  blnze  : 
that's  nice.  Now  I'll  go  out  while  you  think  of  a  proverb,  and  fair 
ladies  have  the  kindness  not  to  keep  me  more  than  three  quarters  of  an 
hour  in  the  entry." 

"  Now,  then,  what  proverb  shall  we  take  ?  Let's  see — suppose  we 
have  ' //  is  a  long  lane  that  has  no  luryiing,'' ''  suggested  Sarah. 

"  Oh  !  no,"  exclaimed  Fanny.  "  I  am  sure  the  word  lane  would  come 
to  me,  and  I  never  should  be  able  to  get  it  in  tidily." 

""Well, '  Enough  is  as  good  as  a  feasly'  or  '  One  good  turn  deserves 
another:  " 

"  Yes,  the  last  will  do  wicely." 

"Ready?"  asks  Willie,  peeping  in,  and  tfjplrg  to  look  very  much 
frozen,  and  shivering  immoderately. 

"Yes.     Come  in." 

"  Cousin  Charlotte,  how  would  you  like  to  be  kept  out  in  the  cold 
entry  for  three  mortal  minutes  and  twenty-three  seconds  V 

"  I  don't  think  it  would  hurt  one  to  stay  there  as  long  as  you  did." 

"  Fanny,  do  you  like  hard  or  soft  coal  best?" 

"Oh  !  I  do  love  a  nice,^ooc/,  cheerful  soft  coal  fire." 

"  Well,"  said  Willie,  "lam  not  much  enlightened  yet.     Nelly,  do 


ice 


?" 


you  like  a  furuii 

"No.     I  would  turn  it  out  of  the  house,  if  I  had  one." 

"Aunt  Mary,  shall  I  throw  puss  into  the  fire?" 

"  She  descries  a  better  fate." 

"  Hum — deserves.  I  smell  a  rat,"  said  Willie.  "  Sarah,  are  you  going 
out  to-morrow  ?" 

"  We  may  not  have  another  day  as  fine  as  this." 

"  One  good  turn  deserves  anotJier,''^  exclaimed  Willie,  exultingly.  "  I 
found  it  out  at  your  deserves,  Aunt  Mary,  so  you  have  got  to  go  out 
now,  or — I  tell  you  what,  girls,  suppose  ice  all  go  out,  and  select  a 
proverb,  and  then  Aunty  needn't  stir.  Her  head  isn't  quite  well  yet,  / 
know." 

"  Well."  And  out  they  ran,  and  then  such  a  whispering!  Some- 
tinn's  a  little  too  loud,  for  words  came  through  the  key-hole,  sounding 


EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK.  93 

like  "  before  you  leap — new  broom — clean — place — everything — its 
place,"  &c.  But  at  last  the  matter  was  settled,  seats  taken,  and  silence 
restored. 

"  Now  begin,  mother." 

"  Well,  Willie,  are  you  enjoying  your  visit  here  ?" 

"  Where  you  are.  Aunt  Mary,  I  am  happy." 

"  I  ;im  much  obh'ged  to  you,  Willie,  but  I  hope  you  haven't  com- 
promised your  conscience  for  the  sake  of  your  proverb.  Do  you  think 
he  has,  Charlotte  1" 

"  I  think  that  there  can  be  no  doubt  about  it,  mother." 

"  Nelly,  do  you  think  that  the  way  to  be  happy  is  to  be  good  ?" 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  think  it  is,  do  not  you  ?" 

"  How  many  more  questions  must  I  ask,  Fanny,  to  complete  the 
proverb  V 

"  If  that  is  meant  for  a  question,  I  will  answer — six." 

"I  am  still  in  the  dark.     Won't  you  help  me  to  some  light,  Sarah?" 

"  No,  mother  dear,  I  will  not,  if  I  can  help  it." 

"TVillie,  don't  you  think  she  is  very  unkind?" 

"  Why,  Aunty,  there  isn't  a  worse  child  on  the  face  of  the  earth !" 

"Fanny,  please  box  his  ears  on  my  account,"  said  Sarah. 

"  Willie,  consider  your  ears  boxed,"  said  Fanny, 

"Oh  !  I  can't;  it  hurts  so  dreadfully  !" 

'•Now  go  on,  mother." 

"  Do  you  think,  Fanny,  that  there  is  any  use  in  my  trying  to  find  it 
out  ?" 

"  Is  there  any  hope  of  finding  it  out  without  trying,  mother  ?" 

"  No  ;  but  then  I  am  so  stupid.  Nelly,  when  are  you  going  to  school 
again  ?" 

"  Oh  !  after  a  little  while." 

"Willie,  how  am  I  ever  going  to  find  this  out?" 

"Any  way  you  like  best,  Aunt.  There,  I've  said  the  last  word. 
Now  if  you  don't  guess  it,  you  must  have  the  dunce  cap  put  on  you, 
and  try  again." 

Poor  Mrs.  Love  is  quite  puzzled.  Who  will  help  her  out  of  her 
difficulties?  s.  n. 


10.  When  were  tallow  candles  invented? 

U.  When  were  the  satellites  of  Jupiter  discovered? 

12.  When  was  the  circulation  of  the  blood  discovered  ?  and  by  whom  ? 


94  EDITORIAL  TABLE   TALK. 

13.  At  what  time  did  Joan  of  Arc  flourish  1  and  when  was  she  exe- 
cuted ? 

14.  What  was  the  insurrection  of  Jack  Cade  ?  and  at  what  time  did 
it  occur  ? 

15.  In  what  year  did  the  pLigue  visit  London?     How  many  persons 
is  it  computed  died  of  it  at  that  time  ? 

16.  When  was  the  great  fire  in  that  city  ? 

17.  When  was  Charles  I.  beheaded? 

18.  When  was  astronomy  and  geography  introduced  into  Europe? 
and  by  whom  ? 

19.  When  was  the  Gunpowder  Plot  formed  ? 

20.  AYhen  was  the  mariner's  compass  discovered  ?  and  by  whom  ? 


BUDGET    OF    ANAGRAMS,    NO.    IF. 

1.  Real  fun.  3.  Hard  case.  6.  No  more  stars 

2.  In  magic  tale.        4.  Evil  fast.  6.  Nay,  I  repent  n. 

W.    N.    D. 


charade  no.  III. 

In  beauty  bright  my  first  is  seen 

Before  the  glorious  sun  has  set, 
My  second,  though  accounted  mean. 

Will  prey  upon  the  mighty  yet! 
No  beauty  can  my  whole  display 
Till  night  has  ta'en  the  place  of  day.  s.  N. 


two  disjointed  proverbs. 

A  great  many  of  our  difficulties  maybe  dissimulation  by 
assiduity  and  proper  diligence,     come    mischief  lurks. 

s.  N. 

ENIGMA    for    latin    SCHOLARS. 

I  am  composed  of  18  letters. 
My  4,  2,  12,  18,  is  both  a  planet  and  a  fish. 
My  18   10,  was  an  ancient  coin. 
My  14,  5,  2,  9,  is  what  we  are  all  too  fond  of. 

My  3,  11,  16,  6,  2,  9,  was  the  birthplace  of  one  of  the  seven  wise 
men. 
None  of  us  would  like  to  be  a  5,  10,  7,  1,2,  10. 


EDITOKIAL   TABLE   TALK.  95 


My  18,  17,  12,  8,  5,  9,  was  a  hero  and  king,  of  whom  much  has  been 
said. 

My  15,  3,  14,  13,  is  a  pronoun. 

My  whole  was  the  motto  of  a  great  ancient  painter,  which  we  would 
all  do  well  to  remember.  edward  win  slow  p. 

ENIGMA    NO.    II. 

Though  small  indeed  my  lettered  name, 
I'm  yet  most  proudly  known  to  fame  : 
Transcribed  on  the  historic  page. 
In  childish  lore  as  well  as  sage ; 
"Where  balmy  airs  and  south  winds  quiver, 
Here  am  I  still,  as  bright  as  ever! 

My  home  is  in  a  garden  fair. 
Whose  culture  is  my  constant  care. 
'Tis  true  my  oft-bewildered  head 
Doth  seek  to  rest  in  ocean's  bed, 
Yet  sleep  I  ne'er,  for  who  may  pillow 
A  weary  head  on  tossing  billow? 

My  kin  perchance  may  boast  of. gold. 
Yet  I  more  precious  keeping  hold: 
For  what  are  simple  grains  of  ore, 
To  all  that  mind  and  heart  may  store  ? 
Minerva  crowns  me  with  her  learning. 
The  muse  rich  bays  for  me  is  earning. 

Beside  me  once,  a  poet  penned 
The  epic  of  his  age  and  land ; 
And  sweetly  with  my  voice's  chime 
"  The  bard  of  Zion"  wove  his  rhyme. 
He  too  who  woke  Orlando's  measure, 
Now  lies  by  me,  a  buried  treasure ! 

The  pleasant  task  is  often  mine. 

To  raise  the  head  of  drooping  vine; 

To  polish  the  dark  olive's  glow; 

To  haste  the  tall  grain's  waving  flow ; 

To  paint  with  brighter  tint  the  flower 

That  blooms  in  bed,  or  decks  the  bower. 


96 


EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


And  I  have  sadder  duty  done 
For  those  whose  race  was  quickly  run  : 
I've  oped  my  arms,  and  freely  gave 
"What  earth  denied  them,  e'en  a  grave ! 
While  he  who  made  their  death-bed  gory, 
"Was  pressing  on  to  reap  new  glory. 

He  won  in  time  "  the  golden  crown ;" 
I  saw  him  don  the  iron  one. 
While  widowed  wife  and  maid  did  pine 
And  mingle  mournful  tears  with  mine; 
The  cypress  low  e'en  now  is  weeping 
Above  those  victims'  final  sleeping. 

Recall  I  may,  remoter  eld, 
When  scenes  as  sad  my  eye  beheld  : 
My  fair  face  twice  was  crimson  dyed, 
"When  humbling  bowed  the  eagle's  pride; 
And  how  my  ear  was  pained  in  listing 
To  plans  which  sealed  the  trio's  trysting! 

Have  I  enough  the  story  told 

To  prove  "my  name  was  famed  from  old  ? 

The  brave  whose  fates  with  mine  were  bound, 

Have  scarce  like  me  maintained  their  ground. 

Oh  may  they  rise,  reneio  their  stature, 

And  be  as  free  as  is  my  nature !  laura. 


ANSWER    TO    THE    CARDINAL    PUZZLE. 

This  puzzle,  as  Uncle  Frank  predicted,  proved  to  be  a  pretty  hard 
one  for  the  boys  and  gfrls,  and  I  think,  in  the  main,  not  very  easy  for 
the  grown-up  people.  Still,  a  good  many 
have  solved  it.  This  is  one  of  the  solutions. 
The  arrangement  may  be  varied  somewhat, 
and  the  same  result  reached.  You  will  see, 
that  if  you  add  these  numbers,  either  up  and 
down  (vertically)  or  crosswise  (horizontally) 
or  slanting  from  corner  to  corner  (dingo- 
nally)  the  sum  will  be  just  34.  You  will  see, 
likewise,  that  the  sum  of  the  four  numbers 
in  the  four  central  squares,  as  also  the  sum  of  the  four  in  the  several 


16 

3 

2 

13 

5 

10 

11 

8 

9 

6 

^ 

12 

4 

15 

14 

1 

EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


97 


corners,  is  just  34.     It  is  a  curious  problem,  isn't  it?     See  how  many 
ways  the  sum  of  3-i  may  be  produced  : 


I 


VERTICAL. 

HORIZONTAL. 

DIAGONAL. 

CENTRE 

AND 

CORNERS. 

16 

3 

2 

13 

16 

5 

9 

4 

16 

13 

10 

16 

9 

2             7 

5 

10 

11 

8 

3 

10 

6 

15 

10 

11 

11 

3 

6 

13     13 

9 

6 

7 

12 

2 

11 

7 

14 

7 

6 

6 

5 

4 

11      14 

4 

15 

14 

1 

13 

8 

12 

1 

1 

4 

7 

10 

15 

8        1 

34     34     34     34     34     34     34     34     34     34     34     32     34     34     34 

The  arrangement  of  the  figures  will  be  simplified  by  observing  th;it 
they  .'^ucceed  each  other  in  the  order  of  the 
lines  in  the  diagram  here  introduced — the 
direction  which  they  take  being  indicated 
by  the  arrow-heads.  Those  who  have  not 
solved  the  problem  can,  by  this  diagram, 
easily  remember  how  the  numbers  are  to 
be  phiced.  The  arrows  show  which  way 
one  must  travel  to  reach  the  figures  in  their 
order. 

The  following  persons  sent  a  correct  so- 
lution to  the  problem  : 

J.  L.  Russ,  of  Lewiston,  N.  Y.  ;  Sarah  M.  Graham,  of  Toledo,  O. ; 
D.  Leet  Wilson,  of  Sewickley  Bottom,  Pa.;  Benjamin  Knepper,  of 
Wellersburg,  Pa. ;  L.  J.  Little,  of  Sheffield,  Ms.;  "Eva,"  of  Castine, 
Me,  ;  Betsey  A.  Brainard,  of  Boardman,  N.  Y.  ;  Edward  R.  Earl,  of 
Cambridgeport,  Vt. ;  Jennie,  of  Avon,  Ct.  ;  S.  N.  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. ; 
George  H.  Bliss,  and  B.  M.  S.  of  New  York  City.  ;  J.  W.  B.  of  Goshen. 
Ct. ;  William  G.  Fowler,  jr.  of  Wilmington,  N.  C. ;  N.  A.  D.  of  Brook- 
lyn, N.  Y.  ;  Sylvester  H.  Dodge,  of  Lakeville,  N.'Y. ;  Fanny  Stearns, 
of  Elizabeth  Town,  N.  J. 


\ 

/ 

"""v 

4 

1' 

1^ 

-\ 

1 

1 

1/ 

3// 

\- 

-'1 

\' 

/ 

V_ 

-1 

1 

"  FAIR    ROSAMOND  S    BOWER 

Was  entered  by  the  following:  Edward  R.  Earl,  of  Cambridgeport, 
Vt.;  "Jennie,"  of  Avon,  Ct.  ;  "  Ellie,"  of  Tarrytown,  N.  Y. ;  "Eva," 
of  Castine,  Me. ;  B.  M.  P.  of  Whitneyville,  Ct. ;  Alexander  Ilambleton 
and  James  P.  Hambleton,  of  Easton  (supposed  to  be  Maryland,  but  the 
name  of  the  State  not  given)  ;  Ira  F.  Brainard,  Emma  L.  Brainard,  and 
Betsey  A.  Brainard,  of  Boardman,  N.  Y.  ;  Robert  A.  Clarke,  of  Fair- 
field, Pa. ;  R.  F.  W.  of  Poughkecpsie,  N.  Y. ;  Seth  J.  Axtell,  jr.  of 
Grafton,  Ms.;  Julia  A.  Davis,  of  Cornish,  Vt.  :  Wm.  T.  Hall,  of  Bcth- 

roL.  V.  •">  *'"^ 


•98  EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


any,  Pa. ;  C.  M.  Parmele,  A.  M,  Parmele,  S.  S.  Parmele,  Emma  S.  Kel- 
loway,  and  Sarah  A.  Kelloway,  of  Clinton,  N.  Y. ;  Charles  H.  Little,  of 
Sheffield,  Ms.;  Anna  M.  Knepper,  of  Wellersburg,  Pa.;  James  Ed- 
mund, of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  ;  L.  R.  S.  Needham,  of  Madison,  N.  J.  : 
Mary  F.  Dodge,  of  Lakeville,  N.  Y. ;  Ann  F.  G.  Black,  of  Ellsworth 
Me.;  George  S.  Marris,  of  Norwich,  Vt. ;  P.  A.  Stuart,  Milan,  O. 
Fanny  and  Clara  Stearns,  of  Elizabeth  Town,  N.  J, ;  A.  W.  Starbnck 
of  Nantucket,  Ms. ;  S.  F.  Poorman,  of  Tiffin,  O. ;  L.  M.  Avers,  of  Ful 
ton,  111.  ;  Geo.  W.  Geortner,  of  Canajoharie,  N.  Y. :  Geo.  H.  Wallace 
of  Canton,  O. ;  D.  G.  White,  of  West  Hartford,  Ct. ;  N.  Austin,  of 
Austinburg,  O. ;  W.  G.  M.  of  Pottstown,  Pa. 


answer  to  the  prize  charade  in  prose. 
Your  Ear-ring. 
Answered  by  T.  C.  D.  of  Henry  County,  Ky. 


answer  to  budget  of  anagrams,  no.  i. 

1.  Marietta.  3.  Portugal.  6.  Paradise. 

2.  Cabinet.  4.  American.  6.  A.itelope. 


S.  N. 


ANSAVER    TO    ALPHABETIC    PUZZLE. 

To  use  up  the  alphabet  T  did  essay  ; 

The  poetic  result  I   will  show  "  S.  L.  C." 
Jump  down  ye  black  frights  brings  them  all  into  play, 

With  the  simple  exception  of  Q,  X,  V,  Z. 
To  use  one  more  letter  again  I  did  try. 

And  although  the  result  was  not  quite  so  sublime. 
Jump  doicn,  vex  black  frights,  leaves  but  Q,  Z  and  Y. 

I  \Nould  try  it  once  more,  but  I  haven't  got  time. 


answer  to  rebus  no.  i. 

Ere  long  expect  a  great  overturning  and  uprising  in 
Europe.  s.  n. 


s.  N.'s  new  game  of  planting. 

Oh,  how  the  little  folks  have  studied  over  the  question  as  to  the 

planting  of  the  sun,     A  great  many  flowers  have  been  named.     The 

Morning  Glory  is  the  right  one ;  and  a  correct  answer  was  sent  by 

"  Eva."  of  Castine,  Me. ;  "  Jennie,"  of  Avon,  Ct. ;  B.  M.  P.  of  Whit- 


EDITORIAL  TABLE   TALK.  99 


neyville,  Ct. ;  Charles  H.  Liltle,  of  Sheffield,  Ms.  who  thinks  that  Jai.sy 
(days  eye)  would  not  be  a  bud  answer;  Alice,  of  Sharon,  Ct.  who  sug- 
gests that  if  S.  N.  should  plant  one  of  her  curls,  maidens  hair  would 
be  likely  to  come  up. 

Charles  H.  Little  has  a  capital  question  of  this  kind  to  ask  :  If  "  the 
77100)1  be  planted,  what  will  come  up?" 


ANSWER    TO    HISTORICAL    QUERIES,    NO.    I. 

1.  The  Normans  first  invaded  England  in  980.  William  the  Con- 
queror was  the  first  Norman  king.     He  commenced  his  reign  in  1066. 

2.  Glass  windows  were  first  used  in  England  about  1180.  It  must 
not  be  forgotten,  though,  that  some  of  the  houses  in  Pompeii  had  glass 
windows,  and  they  were  built  before  the  Christian  era. 

3.  The  Magna  Charta  was  drawn  up  by  the  English  barons,  and 
signed  by  King  John,  sometimes  called  John  Lackland,  in  1215.  It 
gave  greater  liberty  to  all  classes  in  Great  Britain  than  they  had  before 
enjoyed. 

4.  The  ]Magic  Lantern  was  invented  by  Roger  Bacon  in  1252. 

5.  Westminster  x\bbey  was  founded  in  610,  by  Sebert,  king  of  the 
East  Saxons.  The  present  structure  was  built  in  the  reign  of  Edward 
the  Confessor,  in  1065. 

6.  Clocks,  with  toothed  wheels,  were  invented  in  France,  by  Gerbert, 
in  996. 

7.  The  Crusades  commenced  in  1296.  They  were  four  in  number. 
The  second  began  in  1147;  the  third  in  1188;  the  fourth  in  1202. 

8.  Kenil worth  Castle  w\as  erected  in  1120,  by  Baldwin  II.  of  Jeru- 
salem. 

9.  The  Doomsday  Book  (more  properly  Domesday  Book)  was  prepared 
by  William  the  Conqueror,  in  1086,  and  was  an  account  of  all  the  es- 
tates in  his  kingdom  at  that  time. 

Answered  by  "'Eva,"  of  Castine,  Me.  who  seems  to  be  quite  au  fait 
in  history;  "Jennie,"  (in  part.)  of  Avon,  Ct. ;  Alice,  of  Sharon,  Ct.;  B. 
M.  T.  of  New  York  City.  

answer  to  names  of  places  in  massachusetts 
enigmatically  expressed. 

1.  Andover.  2.  Marblehead.  3.  ]\Iendon. 

4.  Braintrf.e.  5.  Lowell.  6.  Barnstable. 

Answered  by  W.  N.  D.  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. ;  J.  B.  W.  Adams,  of  New 
Berlin,  Pa.  ;  Edward  R.  Earl,  of  Cambridgeport,  Vt. ;  Scth  J.  A.\tell,jr. 
of  Grafton,  :Ms.  ;  Henry  A.  Danker,  of  Troy,  N.  Y.  ;  R.  F.   W.  of 


100  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y, ;  James  Elmendorf,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. ;  Alice,  of 
Sharon,  Ct. ;  George  S.  Marris,  of  Norwich,  Vt. ;  Fanny  Stearns,  of 
Elizabeth  Town,  N.  J. 

ANSWER    TO    THE    TWIN    RIDDLE. 

Pray  give  us  the  watch-word, 

And  w^e  will  proceed 
To  unlock  your  riddle. 

'Tis  the  key  that  we  need. 

So  writes  the  sprightly  Jennie,  of  Avon,  Ct.  ;  and  the  riddle  is  also 
answered  by  S.  N.  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. ;  and  "  A  Green  Mountain  Girl," 
of  Sheldon,  Vt.  

answer  to  charade  no.  i. 

Gan-net. 
Solved  by  George  H.  Bliss,  of  New  York  City;  S.  N.  of  Brooklyn, 
N.  Y. ;  Jennie,  of  Avon,  Ct.  ;  Henry  A.  Danker,  of  Troy,  N.  Y. ;  Seth 
J.  Axtell,  jr.  of  Grafton,  Ms.;  J.  W.  B.  of  Goshen,  Ct.;  "A  Green 
Mountain  Girl,"  of  Sheldon,  Vt. 


ANSW^ER    TO    charade    NO.    II. 

Moon-shine. 
Solved  by  George  IT.  Bliss,  of  New  York  City;  Jennie,  of  Avon, 
Ct. ;  Edward  R.  Earl,  of  Cambridgeport,  Vt,  ;  Henry  A.  Danker,  of 
Troy,  N.  Y. ;  Seth  J.  Axtell,  jr.  of  Grafton,  Ms.;  Julia  A.  Davis,  of 
Cornish,  Vt.  ;  Cornelia  M.  Parmele,  of  Clinton,  N.  Y. ;  L.  J.  Little,  of 
Sheffield,  Ms.;  James  Elmendorf,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  ;  J.  W.  B.  of 
Goshen,  Ct. ;  "A  Green  Mountain  Girl,"  of  Sheldon,  Vt. ;  George  S. 
Marris,  of  Norwich,  Vt. ;  N.  Austin,  of  Austinsburg,  O.  By  the  way, 
is  it  notrather  funny  that  not  one  of  the  wise  heads  that  puzzled  over 
this  chnrade,  found  out  that  it  carried  its  answer  right  on  its  face,  in 
the  form  of  an  acrostic  ? 

ANSWER    TO    anagrams    OF    SCRIPTURE    PROPER    NAMES,    NO.    I. 

1.  Arimathea.  3.   ReH0B0A3I. 

2.  Benhadad.  4.  Methusael. 

Solved  by  Edward  R.  Earl,  of  Cambridgeport,  Vt.  who  thinks  there 
is  no  such  name  in  the  Bible  as  the  fourth  anagram,  but  who  is  in- 
formed that  he  is  mistaken ;  Henry  A.  Danker,  of  Troy,  N.  Y, ;  James 
Elmendorf,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


AN   HOUR   IN   THE   REPTILE   ROOM. 


108 


AN  HOUR  m  THE  REPTILE  ROOM. 


NEVER  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  love  snakes,  of  any 
i^  kind.  I  take  them,  the  whole  race  of  them,  to  belong 
to  the  unlovable  portion  of  the  animal  kingdom,  if 
^  there  is  such  a  portion,  and  certain  it  is  that  serpents 
are  pretty  generally  liated.  Still,  I  confess  to  a  liking  for 
looking  at  the  different  members  of  the  family,  when  I  am 
"^^  quite  sure  that  I  can  do  so  with  safety  ;  and  I  confess,  more- 
over, that  during  the  day  I  spent  at  the  Zoological  Gardens  in  Lon- 
don, nothing  interested  me  more,  on  the  whole,  than  the  magnificent 
saloon  appropriated  mainly  to  reptiles.  There  is  probably  a  larger 
collection  of  serpents  in  this  room  than  can  be  found  anywhere  else 
in  the  world  ;  and  the  conveniences  for  keeping  them  and  exhibiting 
them  to  advantage,  are,  I  suppose,  unparalleled.  Immense  glass 
cages  are  appropriated  to  each  species,  sufliciently  spacious,  in  every 
case,  to  allow  the  inmates  to  enact  their  respective  parts,  some  of 
which  are  tragic  enough. 

There  is  an  almost  endless  variety  of  form  and  color  in  these 
serpents.  Some  of  these  exotic  pythons  and  boas  are  monsters. 
One  of  them,-  they  told  me,  weighed  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 
In  their  cages  a  tree  of  considerable  dimensions  is  placed,  and  on 
•this  tree  they  frequently  repose,  the  tail  coiled  round  one  of  the 
boughs.  Others  were  sleeping  soundly  on  a  mat  at  the  bottom  of 
their  glass  house.  Most  of  the  different  animals  in  the  entire  gar- 
dens are  fed  at  a  stated  time,  and  those  persons  who  are  disposed 
to  witness  the  manner  in  which  the  various  species  capture  their 
prey  and  eat,  can  have  an  opportunity  of  doing  so.  When  the 
hour  arrived  for  feeding  the  boas,  an  immense  crowd  assembled,  all 
eager  to  behold  what,  in  itself,  is  an  exceedingly  unpleasant  sight. 
The  boa  that  was  fed  this  time  was  not  of  very  great  dimensions, 
and  the  animal  assigned  him  for  his  dinner  was  comparatively 
amall.      It  was   a  hare.      Poor  fellow  !  if  ever  I  pitied  a  dumb 


104  AN   HOUR   IN   THE   REPTILE    ROOM. 

creature  in  my  life — and  I  believe  I  have  known  soiuething  of  that 
feeling — it  was  that  innocent  hare.  As  soon  as  he  was  placed  in 
the  cage,  he  seemed  to  comprehend  at  a  glance  the  extreme  dan- 
ger of  his  position,  and  to  have  considered  himself  a  lost  hare. 
He  shrunk  timidly  away  into  a  corner  of  the  cage,  and  shook  as 
if  he  had  the  ague,  at  the  same  time  crying  piteously.  What  were 
the  exact  thoughts  which  passed  in  that  hare's  mind  during  the  very 
few  moments  left  him  for  contemplation,  I  suppose  we  have  not  the 
means  of  knowing.  But  I  am  sure  he  seemed  begging  for  mercy 
of  his  powerful  enemy.  I  could  almost  hear  him  whine  out  some- 
thing like  this  language  :  "  Pray  don't  kill  me,  Mr.  Boa,  or  Mr. 
Python,  or  whatever  great  monarch  I  have  the  honor  to  address  ; 
for  I  am  a  poor  innocent  rabbit.  I  never  oftended  you.  I  never 
had  an  unkind  feeling  toward  you  in  my  life."  And  then,  perceiv- 
ing the  huge  monster  by  no  means  moved  to  pity,  but  was  rather 
moving  to  quite  a  different  purpose,  methinks  I  heard  him  say, 
"  Nay,  great  prince,  I  am  too  mean  an  animal  to  presume  to  enter 
your  august  throat.  I  am  but  a  little  scapegrace  of  a  hare.  In 
yonder  pool  there  is  a  seal,  a  very  fat  seal,  who  would  please  you 
much  better." 

The  serpent  coiled  his  tail  closer  around  one  of  the  highest 
boughs  of  the  tree,  and  gradually  raised  his  head,  displaying  a  pair 
of  eyes  that  seemed  to  look  right  through  the  little  shivering  hare. 

"  That  seal" — the  hare  is  supposed  to  go  on  with  his  plea — "  is 
worthy  of  your  majesty's  favor.     He — oh,  pray,  noble  sir,  spare" — 

But  there  was  no  pity  in  the  breast  of  that  monster  ;  nor  did  he 
seem  to  have  been  moved  in  the  least  by  the  arguments  of  the- 
hare,  if  such  as  I  have  surmised  were  used  on  the  occasion.  Quick, 
almost,  as  a  flash  of  lightning,  the  boa  had  leaped  down  from  the 
tree,  and  in  another  instant  the  poor  hare  was  folded  in  the  em- 
brace of  death.  The  serpent  gradually  drew  tighter  the  coils  in 
which  he  held  his  victim,  still  retaining  his  hold  of  the  bough  of 
the  tree,  until  he  appeared  to  be  satisfied  that  life  was  extinct,  when 
he  made  preparations  for — you  know  the  rest.  One  thing,  how- 
ever, which  is  charged  to  the  account  of  his  race,  he  neglected  to 
do.  He  did  not  prepare  his  victim  for  the  feat  he  performed  in 
connection  with  him,  by  any  such  process  as  we  have  so  often  heard 


AN   HOUR   IN   THE   REPTILE   ROOM. 


105 


THE    RATTLE    SNAKE. 


of.  I  was  glad  to  find  that  death  took  place  so  soon  after  the 
victim  was  seized.  I  don't  believe  the  poor  hare  lived  a  minute 
after  the  serpent  pounced  upon  him. 

There  were  several  large  rattle  snakes  in  this  room,  and  I  know 
not  how  many  venomous 
serpents.  Some  of  them 
were  clad '  in  a  beautiful 
dress,  and  their  eyes  were 
perfectly  fascinating.  Here 
I  saw  several  species  of  the 
Cerastes,  one  of  the  most 
deadly  serpents  in  the  world- 
One  species  of  this  genus, 
called  the  Egyptian  asp,  is 
supposed  to  be  the  same 
that  Queen  Cleopatra  used  to  destroy  her  life,  that  is,  if  the  story 
of  her  death  is  true,  which  many  of  the  Avise  ones  doubt.  This 
serpent,  when  free,  in  its  native  countrv,  generally  lies  just  below 
the  surface  of  the  sand,  through  which  the  horn-like  appendages 
above  the  eye  may  then  be  seen  peering  above  the  suifMce.  Not 
the  slightest  motion  indicates  the  existence  of  life  below  them, 
until,  perhaps,  some  little  unsuspecting  inhabitant  of  the  desert 
happens  to  come  along  that  way.  Then,  in  an  instant,  the  head  of 
the  serpent  is  raised  above  his  ambush,  the  jaws  are  opened  wide, 
and  tiie  fangs  erected  from  the  sheath  in  which  they  are  ordinarily 
imbedded.  Swift  as  an  arrow  is  the  stroke  of  the  serpent.  The 
subtle  poison  mingles  with  the  victim's  blood,  and  in  about  one 
hundred  seconds  it  is  dead. 

A  gentleman,  who  once  visited  this  reptile  room  at  night,  says 
that  the  inmates  played  a  great  many  pranks  which  cannot  be  seen 
in  the  day-time.  He  represents  the  spectacle,  at  that  season,  as 
full  of  terrible  interest.  "  About  ten  o'clock  one  evening,"  says  he, 
"in  company  with  two  naturalists  of  eminence,  we  entered  that 
apartment.  A  small  lantern  was  our  only  light,  and  the  faint 
illumination  of  this  imparted  a  ghastly  character  to  the  scene  be- 
fore us.  The  clear  plate  glass  which  faces  the  cages  was  invisible, 
and  it  was  difficult  to  believe  that  the  monsters  were  in  confinement 

VOL.  V.  6*  MR 


106  AN  HOUK   IN  THE   KEPTILE   ROOM. 

and  the  spectators  secure.  Those  who  have  only  seen  the  boas  and 
pythons,  the  rattle  snakes  and  cobras,  lazily  hanging  in  festoons 
from  the  forks  of  the  trees  in  the  dens,  or  sluggishly  coiled  up,  can 
form  no  conception  of  the  appearance  and  actions  of  the  same  crea- 
tures at  night.  The  huge  boas  and  pythons  were  chasing  each 
other  in  every  direction,  whisking  about  the  dens  with  the  rapidity 
of  lightning,  sometimes  clinging  in  huge  coils  round  the  branches, 
anon  entwining  each  other  in  massive  folds,  then  separating,  they 
would  rush  over  and  under  the  branches,  hissing  and  lashing  theii 
tails  in  hideous  sport.  Ever  and  anon,  thirsty  with  their  exertions, 
they  would  approach  the  pans  of  water  and  drink  eagerly,  lap- 
ping it  with  their  forked  tongues.  As  our  eyes  became  accustomed 
to  the  darkness,  we  perceived  objects  better  ;  and  on  the  uppermost 
branch  of  the  tree,  in  the  den  of  the  biggest  serpent,  we  perceived 
a  pigeon  quietly  roosting,  apparently  indiflferent  alike  to  the  tur- 
moil which  was  going  on  around,  and  to  the  vicinity  of  the  mon- 
ster whose  meal  it  was  soon  to  form.  In  the  den  of  one  of  the 
smallest  serpents  was  a  little  mouse,  whose  panting  sides  and  fast- 
beating  heart  showed  that  it  at  least  disliked  its  company.  Dur- 
ing the  time  we  were  looking  at  these  creatures,  all  sort  of  noises 
were  heard.  A  strange  scratching  at  the  glass  would  be  audible. 
It  was  the  carnivorous  lizard  endeavoring  to  inform  us  that  it  was 
a  fast  day  with  him,  entirely  contrary  to  his  inclination.  A  sharp 
hiss  would  startle  us  from  another  quarter,  and  we  stepped  back 
involuntarily,  as  the  lantern  revealed  the  inflated  hood  and  threat- 
ening action  of  an  angry  cobra.  Then  a  rattle  snake  would  take 
umbrage,  and,  sounding  an  alarm,  would  make  a  stroke  against 
the  glass,  intended  for  our  person.  The  fixed  gaze  from  the  bril- 
liant eyes  of  the  huge  pythons  was  more  fascinating  and  pleasant, 
and  the  scene,  taking  it  altogether,  more  exciting  than  agreeable. 
Each  of  the  spectators  involuntarily  stooped  to  make  sure  that  his 
trovvsers  were  well  strapped  down  ;  and,  as  if  our  nerves  were 
jesting,  a  strange  sensation  would  every  now  and  then  be  felt,  re- 
sembling the  twining  of  a  small  snake  about  the  legs." 


A   PILGRIMAGE   TO   ST.    BERNARD'S. 


107 


A  PILGEIMAGE  TO  ST.  BERNAED'S. 


N  the  Yth  day  of  June,  in  company  with  two  young 
Americans,  in  whose  society  I  saw  many  of  the 
most  noted  lions  of  Italy  and  Switzerland,  I  went 
up  to  the  Great  St.  Bernard.  It  was  a  charming  summer 
morning  at  Martigny,  when  we  set  out  on  the  excursion. 
The  temperature  was  not  unlike  that  of  Connecticut  or 
Massachusetts  at  the  same  season  of  the  year.  Though  we  arrived 
at  our  hotel  at  Martigny,  on  our  route  across  the  Simplon,  the  night 
before  at  12  o'clock,  and  were  then  so  tired  from  walking  many  a 
mile  up  the  Italian  slope  of  the  Alps,  that  we  could  scarcely  crawl 
up  one  flight  of  stairs  to  bed,  yet  we  were  "  as  good  as  new"  at 
sunrise  the  next  morning,  and  ready  for  any  achievement  in  the 
Herculean  way  that  might  oflfer.  It  was  thus  day  after  day  during 
my  rambles  in  Switzerland.  I  never  dreamed  before  that  I  was 
capable  of  enduring  so  much  fatigue  with  so  little  permanent  in- 
convenience. Every  day  the  physical  clock-work  would  completely 
run  down,  but  every  night  it  got  nicely  wound  up  again.  I  do  not 
believe  that  Rip  Van  Winkle  slept  sounder  among  the  Highlands 
of  the  Hudson,  than  I  did  among  the  glaciers  of  the  Alps. 

The  guide  we  hired  at  Martigny,  Pierre,  by  name,  provided 
everything  necessary  for  the  expedition.  We  gave  him  a  carte 
blanche  for  the  purpose  as  soon  as  we  opened  our  eyes  in  the 
morning,  and  before  we  had  despatched  our  breakfast,  he  was  ready 
to  set  out.  Each  of  us  was  provided  with  an  alpenstock — a  long 
pole,  with  a  spur  at  the  lower  end,  and  a  chamois  horn  at  the 
other — to  assist  us  in  leaping  when  it  should  become  necessary, 
in  the  course  of  human  events,  to  exchange  our  mules'  feet  for  our 
own.  Pierre  was  a  good  commissary  ;  we  laughed  when  we  saw 
how  liberally  he  was  providing  against  an  onslaught  from  the  genius 


108  A   PILGRIMAGE   TO   ST.   BERNARD'S. 

of  starvation.  Among  his  stores  was  a  black  bottle,  which  he 
treated  as  carefully  as  if  it  contained  consecrated  oil  for  extreme 
unction,  though,  in  fact,  it  was  filled  with  a  very  different  fluid. 
We  started  in  a  char-d-hanc.  The  reader  has  no  doubt  heard  of 
this  vehicle,  but  he  wnll  not  probably  see  its  like  out  of  Switzerland. 
It  is  rather  a  grotesque  contrivance.     Its  shape, 

"If  shape  it  can  "be   called,  -which  shape  has  none," 

is  unlike  anything  else  in  the  earth  beneath,  or  the  waters  under 
the  earth,  unless  it  may  be  said  to  resemble  a  crab,  which  I  am 
not  sure  but  it  does  a  Kttle,  when  it  is  in  motion.  Two  mules 
were  attached  to  this  vehicle.  "  Prenez-garde  de  la  houtelle^''  said 
the  guide.  "  Out,  inonsieur,''^  we  replied,  "  we  will  take  the  most 
excellent  care  of  it,  never  fear."  And  with  that  we  set  out.  Reader, 
are  you  fond  of  a  jolting  ride  ?  Because  if  you  are,  and  can't  get 
enough  of  it  at  home,  I  am  sure  you  would  be  pounded  to  your 
heart's  content,  in  riding  from  ^fartigny  to  Liddes,  on  your  way  up 
the  Great  St.  Bernard. 

A  most  uninviting  district  of  country  we  pass  through  for  a 
great  part  of  the  way,  after  leaving  the  valley  of  the  Rhine,  in 
which  Martigny  is  situated  ;  and  it  becomes  more  uninviting  still, 
when  we  leave  the  valley  of  the  Dranse,  a  small  tributary  of  the 
Rhine,  which  falls  into  it  at  Martigny.  Though  the  Dranse  now 
and  then  accomplishes  something  respectable  in  the  way  of  a  cas- 
cade, I  was  disappointed,  on  the  whole,  in  not  finding  more  of  the 
picturesque  in  the  scenery.  The  inhabitants  seem,  for  the  most 
part,  to  be  shepherds  and  hunters.  Many  keep  their  herds,  in  the 
summer,  as  far  up  the  slopes  of  the  mountains  as  they  can  find 
pasture,  but  retreat  towards  the  valley  at  the  approach  of  winter. 
I  suppose  it  would  be  diflSoult  to  find  a  worse-looking  set  of  people 
in  all  Switzerland,  than  those  we  saw  on  our  way  up  to  the  hos- 
pice. That  most  disgusting  form  of  disease  called  the  goitre,  so 
common  in  Switzerland,  seems  to  run  riot  here.  Of  adults  whom 
we  met,  I  think  nearly  one  quarter  were  afflicted  with  this  calamity. 
It  seemed  to  be  more  prevalent  among  the  womren  than  the  men. 
In  its  worst  type,  or  in  its  most  mature  stage,  an  immense  and 
exceedingly  revolting  protuberance  appears  on  the  neck.     In  sev- 


A  PILGKIMAGE  TO  ST.   BERNAKD'S.  109 

eral  instances,  which  came  under  my  observation,  this  swelling 
must  have  been  five  inches  long.  The  little  villages  on  the  way — 
there  are  two  or  three  of  them — exhibit  a  shocking  degree  of 
poverty  and  filth.  At  one  of  these  villages,  called  St.  Pierre,  we 
left  our  char-d-banc.  The  road,  for  the  remainder  of  the  distance, 
is  too  steep  and  rugged  even  for  such  a  vehicle.  The  guide  trans- 
ferred our  luggage  to  the  back  of  one  of  the  mules,  and  after  a 
little  refreshment,  we  resumed  our  march  on  foot,  alpenstock  in 
hand,  the  mule,  however,  giving  us  a  lift  now  and  then.  Pretty 
soon  the  cool  atmosphere  which  we  encountered  at  St.  Pierre 
changed  to  one  positively  cold.  Vegetation  became  more  and 
more  scarce  and  stunted.  The  rude  huts  of  the  shepherds  disap- 
peared. The  last  house  which  is  inhabited  before  reaching  the 
hospice,  is  distant  about  an  hour's  walk.  Albeit  it  is  rather  a 
shabby  house  of  entertainment,  having  in  it,  if  I  recollect  right, 
but  two  rooms,  and  comfortless  rooms  enough  at  that.  It  bears  the 
name  of  La  Grande  Maison.  I  was  in  advance  of  the  rest  of 
the  party,  having  rode  for  half  an  hour.  I  was  as  near  freezing  as 
I  ever  wish  to  get ;  but  there  was  not  a  spark  of  fire  in  the  room 
to  which  they  conducted  me,  and  it  took  a  long  time  to  make  one. 
A  most  cheerless  place  is  the  "  Great  House,"  and  a  most  cheerless 
country,  every  way,  is  that  which  meets  the  eye  around  it.  Not 
a  green  thing  was  to  be  seen.  Trees  there  were  none.  A  cold, 
drizzly,  dismal,  freezing  rain  was  in  progress,  which  soon  changed 
to  a  fine,  drifting,  pelting,  cutting  snow.  The  mule  could  proceed 
no  farther,  and  we  left  him.  So  much  of  the  old  snow  of  the 
previous  winter  remained,  that  it  was  deemed  dangerous  to  trust  to 
any  legs  but  our  own.  Pierre  strapped  the  luggage,  all  except  the 
coats  and  shawls,  which  we  needed,  upon  his  own  back,  ana  we 
were  soon  hard  at  work  floundering  through  the  snowdrifts,  and 
leaping  over  the  little  streams.  It  was  at  this  juncture  that  I 
picked  up  a  piece  of  information  which  was  not  a  little  vexatious. 
I  had  left  my  overcoat  at  St.  Pierre.  It  was  so  warm  and  comfort- 
able there  that  I  had  forgotten  it,  and  now  I  was  in  the  midst  of 
an  angry  winter,  and  had  to  depend  upon  a  shawl  which  I  had 
not  the  means  of  confining  upon  my  shoulders.  In  this  plight,  I 
could  not  help  thinking  of  another  pilgrim  with  whose  history  you 


110  A  PILGRIMAGE   TO  ST.   BERNARD'S. 

are  well  acquainted — the  man  who,  once  on  a  time,  when  he  fell 
asleep  by  the  road-side,  lost  a  valuable  roll,  and  did  not  discover 
the  loss  of  it  until  he  was  in  a  situation  where  he  greatly  needed  it 
It  was  a  grand  calamity,  the  loss  of  that  garment ;  and  we  soon 
had  an  illustration  of  the  old  notion  that 

"Misfortunes  come  not  single  spies, 
But  in  "battalions" — 

for,  in  an  unguarded  moment,  when  we  were  scrambling  along  the 
edge  of  a  mammoth  table  rock,  our  guide  lost  his  footing,  and  down 
he  tumbled,  pack  and  all.  On  picking  himself  up,  it  was  discovered, 
to  the  unutterable  consternation  and  grief  of  poor  Pierre,  that  the 
bottle  of  which  he  had  all  along  taken  such  especial  care,  was* 
dashed  to  atoms.  I  fancy  I  hear  my  good  friend  Dr.  Marsh  gig- 
gling over  this  accident ;  but  if  he  had  been  on  the  ground,  seen 
the  long  face  of  Pierre,  and  withal  heard  the  loud  lamentations  of 
the  entire  party,  I  am  not  sure  but  some  genial  tears  of  sympathy 
for  us  would  have  flowed  from  his  eyes,  and  mingled  with  the 
snows  of  old  St.  Bernard. 

We  arrived  at  the  hospice  at  about  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  a 
sorry  company  of  adventurers,  you  may  be  sure.  For  a  great  part 
of  the  last  stage  of  the  route,  we  had  to  wade  in  snow  so  wet  that 
we  sunk  in  it  up  to  our  knees.  Sometimes  we  had  to  creep  cau- 
tiously over  a  huge  drift,  below  which,  I  know  not  how  many 
fathoms,  we  could  hear  the  murmuring  of  a  stream  of  water.  We 
had  to  keep  a  bright  look-out  for  avalanches,  too.  We  saw  one 
only.  It  gave  us  a  wide  berth,  providentially,  and  no  one  of  the 
party  wished  it  had  come  nearer.  It  was  a  grand  sight.  The 
noise  of  a  distant  avalanche  is  very  like  that  of  thunder,  and  the 
traveler  is  not  unfrequently  startled  by  it  in  this  vicinity.  A  week 
or  two  before  our  excursion,  as  we  learned  from  the  good  monks, 
two  Americans  went  up  the  St.  Bernard  without  a  guide.  They 
missed  their  way,  and  in  consequence,  encountered  an  avalanche. 
They  were  completely  buried  in  it,  and  it  was  with  the  utmost  dif- 
ficulty that  they  actually  escaped. 

The  monks — we  are  now  at  St.  Bernard's,  reader — received  us 
with  great  cordiality,  showed  us  the  chambers  where  we  were  to 


A   PILGRIMAGE   TO   ST.    BERNARD'S.  Ill 

sleep,  provided  us  with  dry  stockings  and  slippers,  and  made  up  for 
our  benefit  a  fire  large  enough  to  roast  an  ox,  before  which — the 
fire,  not  the  ox — we  could  not  so  very  much  wonder  that  the  ghe- 
hers  made  such  a  choice  as  they  did  among  all  the  different  false 
deities.  We  had  been  but  a  short  time  at  the  hospice,  when  an- 
other party,  two  of  whom  were  ladies,  arrived.  They,  too,  were 
welcomed  in  the  same  courteous  and  hospitable  manner.  Our 
supper  was  excellent,  and  you  may  rest  assured  we  all  did  it  ample 
justice.  The  monks,  at  the  time  we  visited  the  convent,  were  some 
four  or  five  in  number.  In  the  winter  season,  I  believe,  more  are 
required.  They  sat  at  the  table  with  us,  and  conversed  with  us 
during  the  meal.  I  was  glad  to  find  that  they  were  cheerful  and 
happy,  notwithstanding  their  solitary  life.  While  seated  at  the 
table,  they  made  a  great  many  inquiries  about  matters  and  things 
in  America,  and  expressed  much  interest  in  our  answers.  It  would 
appear  that  the  account  of  the  terrible  calamity  which  happened  in 
one  of  the  public  schools  in  the  city  of  New  York  had  recently 
reached  them,  and  they  begged  us  to  tell  them  all  we  knew  on  this 
painful  topic.  They  speak  the  best  of  French  ;  and  their  enuncia- 
tion is  so  clear  and  distinct,  that  we,  who  limped  occasionally  in 
French,  found  that  we  could  understand  them  much  better  than 
most  Frenchmen,  whose  frequent  elisions,  added  to  the  rapidity  of 
their  utterance,  in  common  conversation,  confuse  the  Anglo-Saxon 
not  a  little.  They  were  in  fine  humor,  perfectly  ripe  for  a  joke. 
They  had  picked  up  a  few  English  words,  and  they  laughed  up  to 
their  very  foreheads  as  they  fruitlessly  essayed  to  pronounce  them. 
Once  in  a  while,  too,  when  we  tripped  rather  ludicrously  in  our 
French,  they  took  the  license  to  be  good-naturedly  merry  at  our 
expense.  I  remember  that,  at  one  time,  getting  up  a  little  more 
than  my  ordinary  allowance  of  steam  in  conversation,  I  dashed  on 
with  such  heedless  impetuosity  that  I  bolted  out  vous  etes  for  nous 
sommes,  whereat  the  merriment  of  the  good  brethren  was  un- 
boimded. 

On  the  whole,  I  was  exceedingly  pleased  with  these  self-denying 
monks.  Whatever  flaw  there  may  be  in  the  heart  of  their  religion, 
I  do  not  see  how,  with  that  charity  which  "  hopeth  all  things,"  we 
can  refase  to  accord  to  them  and  their  fraternity  a  genuine  Chris- 


112  A    PILGRIMAGE    TO   ST.    BERNARD'S. 

tian  philanthropy  of  the  highest  stamp.  If  theirs  is  not  disinter- 
ested benevolence,  where  on  this  planet  shall  we  look  for  it?  These 
men  devote  themselves,  at  a  very  early  age,  to  the  humane  duties 
at  St.  Bernard's.  Young  men  only  can  perform  eftective  service 
there.  Their  voluntary  enlistment  is  for  fifteen  years  ;  but  such 
are  the  hardships  to  which  they  are  exposed  in  traversing  those 
boundless  fields  of  snow  in  the  winter  season,  that  very  few  of  them 
live  to  complete  that  term  ;  and  those  who  do  live,  are  often  driven, 
with  impaired  health,  to  seek  a  lower  and  more  genial  clime.  The 
hospice,  let  it  be  borne  in  mind,  is  situated  more  than  eight  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  It  always  freezes  there  early 
in  the  morning ;  and  they  told  us  that  in  the  height  of  summer  a 
week  rarely  passed  without  a  formidable  fsiU  of  snow.  Sometimes, 
in  the  winter,  the  snow-drifts  accumulate  around  them  to  the  depth 
of  forty  feet.  The  perils  of  the  pass  of  St.  Bernard  in  the  winter 
can  hardly  be  over-rated.  The  snow  falls  in  very  fine  particles,  like 
dust,  and  completely  blinds  the  traveler,  so  that  it  is  quite  impos- 
sible for  him  to  find  his  way.  The  attempt,  indeed,  to  cross  the 
pass  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard  in  the  depth  of  winter,  unless  with  a 
most  skillful  guide,  long  familiar  with  the  route,  is  little  less  than 
suicidal.  Yet,  strange  enough,  many  reckless  adventurers,  mostly 
pedlers,  I  believe,  undertake  the  journey,  and  not  a  few  are  lost. 

There  were  only  three  dogs  in  the  hospice  when  we  visited  it. 
Fine  fellows  they  seemed  to  be,  perfectly  under  the  control  of  their 
masters.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  ought  to  disturb  a  pleasant 
charm  which  hangs  over  the  history  of  these  dogs,  in  every  part  of 
the  globe.  It  is  always  pleasanter  to  believe  a  pretty  story,  than 
it  is  to  disbelieve  it.  The  condition  of  faith,  on  the  whole,  is  a  more 
happy  one  than  that  of  doubt.  But  these  good  monks,  when  they 
heard  us  praise  the  renowned  dogs  of  St.  Bernard,  smiled  a  little, 
and  intimated  that  though  they  were  undeniably  very  intelligent, 
very  shrewd,  very  humane  dogs,  yet  their  intelligence,  and  shrewd- 
ness, and  humanity  made  rather  a  greater  figure  abroad  than  at 
home.  These  animals,  sagacious  as  they  are,  we  were  told,  never 
performed  much  efi*ective,  Howard-like  service,  unless  attended  by 
one  or  more  of  their  masters,  in  which  case  they  were  nevertheless 
invaluable. 


A   PILGRIMAGE   TO   ST.    BERNARD'S.  113 

The  rooms  at  the  hospice,  which  are  comfortable  and  neat,  are 
capable  of  accommodating  nearly  a  hundred  travelers  with  beds. 
The  main  building  is  substantially  built  of  stone.  The  summit  of 
the  mountain  on  which  the  hospice  stands,  is  subject  to  exceeding 
high  winds.  During  almost  the  entire  night  I  slept  there,  a  furious 
gale  was  blowing.  Though  I  had  over  me  unnumbered  strata  of 
quilts,  to  say  nothing  of  a  veritable  feather-bed — for  in  Switzerland 
they  are  in  the  habit  of  creeping  under  instead  of  reclining  upon 
these  feather-beds — I  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  keeping  com- 
fortably warm.  The  next  morning,  when  we  rose,  we  found  our- 
selves in  the  very  heart  of  one  of  the  angriest  snow-storms  I  ever 
witnessed. 

After  prayer  with  the  monks  and  breakfast,  we  were  shown  the 
morgue^  where  the  bodies  of  those  who  fall  victims  to  the  severity 
of  the  winter  in  this  region,  are  exposed  to  be  recognised  by  their 
friends.  A  truly  frightful  spectacle  this  place  presents.  From  the 
rapid  evaporation  at  this  height,  the  bodies  dry,  without  going 
through  the  usual  process  of  decay.  There,  among  the  victims,  lay 
a  mother,  with  a  child  clasped  in  her  arms — the  bodies  left  in  the 
same  position  as  they  were  discovered  amid  the  snow-drifts. 

Afterwards  we  visited  the  chapel,  containing,  among  other  things 
of  less  interest  to  an  American  Protestant,  a  monument,  erected  by 
Napoleon  to  General  Dessaix,  who  fell  at  Marengo.  A  box  is 
placed  in  the  chapel,  where  travelers  who  have  the  means,  are  ex- 
pected to  deposit  what  they  are  disposed  to  give  for  their  enter- 
tainment. The  money  thus  contributed,  which  I  was  rejoiced  to 
learn  is  by  no  means  inconsiderable,  enables  the  monks  to  extend 
additional  liberalities  in  behalf  of  suffering  wayfarers,  and  to  en- 
tertain, free  of  expense,  those  who  are  destitute. 

Soon  after  breakfast,  we  bade  the  inmates  of  the  hospice  adieu, 
and  departed  with  their  blessing.  One  of  the  monks,  perceiving 
how  poorly  provided  I  was  for  encountering  the  storm,  offered  to 
loan  me  his  mantle,  and  I  was  glad  enough  to  borrow  it.  A  long 
and  very  clerical  robe  it  proved  to  be  ;  and  when  I  was  vested  with 
it,  the  humor  of  the  brethren  of  the  order  of  St.  AugHstine  burst 
out  afresh.  They  laughed,  clapped  their  hands,  and  declared  I 
seemed  a  very  creditable  specimen  of  a  monk. 


114 


THE  HERONS  AND  THE  HERRINGS. 


THE  HERONS  AND  THE  HERRINGS. 


A    FABLK    FOR    THE   TIMES. BY    FRANCIS    C.    WOODWORTH. 


A  Heron  eame  down  from  his  home  in  the  sky, 
To  the  court  of  his  cousins  the  fishes, 

With  despatches  so  heavy  he  scarcely  could  fly, 
And  his  bosom  brim-full  of  good  wishes. 

That  he  was  unfriendly  to  Herrings,  he  said 
He  hoped  there  would  be  no  suspicion ; 

His  government  wished  to  convert  them  instead, 
And  this  was  the  end  of  his  mission. 


The  Herrings  replied,  and  were  civil  enough, 
Though  a  little  inclined  to  be  witty: — 

"  We  know  we  are  heathenish,  savage,  and  rough, 
And  feel  greatly  obliged  for  your  pity. 


THE  CLERK  AND  THE   GRAMMARIAN.  115 

But  your  plan  of  conversion  we  humbly  decline, 

With  all  due  respect  for  your  nation. — 
No  doubt  it  would  tend  to  exalt  and  refine; 

Yet  we  fear  it  would  check  respiration." 

The  Heron  returned  to  his  peers  in  disdain, 

And  told  how  their  love  was  requited  ; 
"  Poor  creatures !"  they  said,  "  can  we  let  them  remain 

So  ignorant,  blind,  and  benighted  ?" 

Then  soon  on  a  crusade  of  love  and  good-will, 

The  Herons  in  council  decided ; 
And  they  flew,  every  one  that  could  bear  a  long  bill. 

To  the  beach  where  the  Herrings  resided. 

So  the  heathen  were  brought  from  the  sea  to  the  air. 

Not  liking,  'tis  said,  the  diversion. 
And  thinking  they  needed  some  time  to  prepare 

For  this  singular  mode  of  conversion. 

A  man  of  good  sense  will  discover  with  ease 

The  point  of  the  tale  I've  related ; 
A  blockhead  could  not,  let  me  say  what  I  please — 

Then  why  need  the  moral  be  stated? 


THE  CLERK  AND  THE  GRAMMAEIAN. 

A  VILLAGE  parish  clerk,  who  employed  a  grammarian  to  teach 
bis  daughter  the  syntax  of  her  native  tongue,  heard  him  with 
much  surprise  define  the  use  of  the  articles  a,  an,  and  the. 

"  You  cannot  place  a,  the  singular  article,  before  plural  nouns — 
no  one  can  say  a  houses^  a  horses^  a" — 

"  Hold  there,"  said  the  parish  clerk,  "  I  must  contradict  you  in 
that.  Don't  I,  at  church,  every  Sunday,  say  a-men  'i  r:nd  the 
prayer-book  knows  better  than  you." 


116  THE  OLD  ABBEY  OF  FOWRE. 


THE  OLD  ABBEY  OF  FOWKE. 


x^  N  the  central  part  of  Ireland  are  the  remains  of  an  an- 
cient Abbey  which  is  well  worthy  the  attention  of 
those  who  take  pleasure  in  examining  relics  of  anti- 
quity, and  wandering  among  the  ruins  of  former  days. 
■\    With   those  mementoes   Ireland   abounds.     Castles,    round 

^  '  towers,  monasteries,  or  ancient  churches,  are  to  be  met  with 
in  almost  every  country,  their  ivy-covered  ruins  arresting  the 
attention  of  the  traveler,  and  inviting  him  to  stop  and  make  ac- 
quaintance with  those  venerable  survivors  of  past  ages. 

Connected  with  those  ruins  are  legends  and  stories  innumerable, 
which  the  superstitious  and  imaginative  peasantry  have  received 
by  tradition  from  their  forefathers,  and  relate  with  a  full  convic- 
tion of  their  authenticity.  These  foolish  legends  embrace  pots  of 
gold,  buried  under  ground  within  the  walls  of  old  castles,  over 
which  cocks  have  been  heard  to  crow  at  certain  hours  of  the 
night ;  mysterious  boxes,  found  on  the  summit  of  mountains,  the 
covers  of  which  no  mortal  hand  dare  raise,  without  suffering  the 
penalty  of  instantaneous  death  ;  celebrated  trunks  of  trees,  by  em- 
bracing which  serious  evils  may  be  averted  ;  and  cavities  in  rocks 
approached  at  the  risk  of  life,  but  which,  having  once  succeeded  in 
reaching,  will  purchase  for  the  adventurer  a  safe  guard  through 
some  of  the  most  imminent  dangers  to  which  humanity  is  subject. 

The  ancient  name  of  Fowre  was  Balogne,  or  the  town  of  books, 
the  Abbey  having  at  one  time  possessed  one  of  the  most  extensive 
libraries  of  the  olden  times,  both  in  print  and  manuscript,  from 
which  it  derived  its  name.  The  town  is  approached  through  a 
mountain  pass,  and  is  surrounded  by  a  natural  fortification  of  not 
inconsiderable  hills. 

The  place  where  the  Abbey  stands,  which,  with  its  chapel,  mon- 
astery, and  other  buildings,  covers  about  two  square  acres,  is  lit- 
erally a  large  table  rock  in  the  centre  of  a  bog  or  morass,  and 


THE  OLD  ABBEY  OF  FOWRE.  117 

only  accessible  by  a  narrow  road  made  of  broken  fragments  from 
the  neighboring  rocks.  The  architecture  of  those  buildings  is  con- 
sidered to  be  admirable,  and  constructed  with  such  strength  and 
durability,  as  to  be  for  some  time  formidable  even  to  the  devas- 
tating army  of  Cromwell.  Even  now  it  presents  one  of  the  finest 
specimens  of  monastic  ruins.  What  remains  of  the  walls  is  cov- 
ered with  ivy,  but  through  its  beautiful  dark  green  foliage  the 
east  windows  can  be  plainly  traced.  The  stone  staircase  is  still  p<^r- 
fect,  and  here  and  there,  in  .its  windings,  leads  to  dark,  square,  tun- 
nel-shaped chambers,  reaching  from  top  to  bottom  of  the  building, 
and  seeming  to  have  been  intended  as  places  of  confinement. 

Tradition  relates  that  this  Abbey  was,  in  ancient  times,  made  the 
stopping-place  for  all  the  religious  orders  as  they  traveled  from  the 
metropolis  towards  the  west,  being  situated  about  mid-way.  From 
its  castelated  walls  they  could  look  out  in  security  during  troublous 
times,  till  a  favorable  opportunity  for  departure  should  occur. 

Among  those  who  came  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  this  sacred 
retreat  was,  it  is  said,  the  celebrated  Saint  Cuthbert.  When  he 
had  arrived  at  a  certain  distance  from  the  Abbey,  the  first  toll  of 
the  vesper  bell  sounded  in  his  ear ;  whereupon  he  immediately  fell 
upon  his  knees,  to  perform  his  devotions,  the  marks  of  which,  we 
are  told  with  great  gravity,  are  still  visible,  being  two  hollow  in- 
dentations on  which  no  grass  since  then  has  been  ever  known  to 
grow.  Great  virtue  is  attached  to  kneeling  in  the  identical  spot, 
which  of  course  has  attracted  great  numbers  ;  and  one  poor  wo- 
man was  seen  by  a  passer-by,  endeavoring  with  the  utmost  precis- 
ion to  place  herself  on  those  knee-marks,  for  the  purpose  of  avert- 
ing some  anticipated  evil. 

St.  Kevin  was  another  of  those  worthies  for  which  the  "  Queen 
Isle"  was  at  one  time  so  famed,  and  was  probably  included  in  the 
list  of  pilgrims  to  the  Abbey.  It  is  recorded  of  him,  among  many 
other  things  strange  and  wonderful,  that  having  at  one  time  re- 
treated to  a  little  hut  in  the  desert,  to  enjoy  meditation,  reading, 
and  prayer,  and  while  engaged  in  an  act  of  devotion  before  an 
open  window,  having  raised  his  hand  towards  heaven,  a  black  bird 
perched  upon  it,  and  deposited  her  eggs  in  the  open  palm.  The 
compassionate  saint  pitied  the  bird,  and  neither  closed  nor  drew  in 


118  THE  OLD  ABBEY  OF  FOWKE. 

his  hand,  till  the  season  of  hatching  arrived,  and  the  young  brood 
had  emerged  from  their  shells.  This  act  of  benevolence  has  been 
transmitted  to  posterity  by  the  images  of  St.  Kevin  being  repre- 
sented with  an  extended  hand,  and  a  bird  sitting  on  it.  Is  it 
not  strange  that  such  ridiculous  stories  as  these  should  find  any- 
body stupid  enough  to  believe  them  ? 

Pigeons  are  now  the  only  inhabitants  of  this  once  famed  build- 
ing, who  find  in  its  ruins  an  undisturbed  retreat,  and  flock  there 
in  great  abundance. 

There  are  what  the  neighboring  peasantry  call  "  four  wonders" 
connected  with  the  ancient  town  of  Fowre — an  abbey  in  a  bog,  a 
mill  without  a  mill  stream,  an  anchorite  cell,  and  water  that  will 
never  boil.  This  last  wonder  is  so  fully  believed,  that  to  put  it 
to  the  test  would  be  considered  an  act  of  sacrilege.  A  young  lady, 
who  requested  a  bottle  from  her  guide  to  carry  home  some  of 
the  water,  for  the  purpose  of  proving  the  truth,  or  rather  the 
falsehood  of  the  assertion,  was  looked  upon  as  an  unbelieving  here- 
tic, and  the  guide  went  so  far  as  to  say,  "  Troth,  Miss,  if  you  were 
to  do  such  a  thing,  you  would  never  have  a  day's  luck  after." 
This  unboilable  water  is  found  in  a  beautifully  transparent  well,  in 
the  limestone  rock  on  which  the  Abbey  stands. 

Near  the  entrance  of  the  causeway  leading  to  the  monastery  is 
a  mountain,  presenting  an  almost  perpendicular  face,  from  a  small 
fissure  in  which  bursts  forth  a  gushing  torrent  of  water.  Under 
the  mouth  of  this  stream  a  simple  mill  was  once  constructed  which, 
contrary  to  all  modern  improvements  in  machinery,  had  but  one 
wheel  horizontally  placed,  having  the  grinding-stones  in  the  upper 
end  of  the  shaft.  The  stream  has  its  origin  in  a  beautiful  lake, 
surrounded  by  mountains  about  three  miles  distant,  from  whence, 
having  forced  a  subterranean  passage  through  the  rock,  without 
being  at  all  visible  at  the  lake  side,  it  rushed  through  the  before- 
mentioned  fissure,  and  turned  the  wheel  of  the  old-fashioned  mill 
which  ground  the  corn,  in  centuries  gone  by,  for  the  solitary  in- 
mates of  the  monastery. 

The  mill,  like  its  other  dependencies,  has  fallen  into  total  ruin ; 
but  the  stream  still  finds  its  way  through  its  dark  and  hidden 
passage  in  the  rock,  and  falls  with  a  deep  murmuring  sound,  un- 


THE   OLD   ABBEY   OF   FOWRE.  119 

heeded  at  its  foot — a  voice  from  the  past,  a  speaking  memento  of 
other  days. 

The  anchorite  cell,  where  have  been  known  to  dwell,  for  many 
years,  two  or  three  successive  hermits,  is  a  natural  cavity  high  up 
in  the  rock,  immediately  over  the  mill.  There,  in  his  eyry-like 
abode,  having  reached  the  summit  of  superstitious  ambition,  he 
could  slumber  within  sound  of  the  busy  wheel  as  it  performed  its 
unceasing  revolutions,  and  wake  at  the  tumbling  fall  of  the  moun- 
tain stream  to  renew  his  pharisaical  devotions,  when  the  morning 
sun  had  lighted  up  the  walls  of  the  rocky  dwelling-place, 

•'Where   at  the  last  his  ■weary  age 
Found  out  a  peaceful  hermitage, 
The  hairy  gown,  and  mossy  cell, 
Where  he  could  sit  and  nightly  spell, 
O'er  every  star  the   sky  doth  show, 
And  every  herb  that  sips  the  dew." 

The  ground  beneath  the  rock  has,  since  the  desertion  of  the  her- 
mitage, been  occupied  as  a  burying -place,  which  adds  additional 
sanctity  to  the  neighborhood. 

A  tragedy,  dark  and  dreadful,  was  once  acted  near  this  spot, 
the  circumstances  of  which  are  still  fresh  in  the  memory  of  one 
whose  relatives  aided,  among  others,  to  bring  the  perpetrators  of 
it  to  justice. 

A  yearly  fair  was  held  near  the  old  Abbey,  which  attracted  many 
from  the  neighboring  towns.  Among  the  number  was  a  pedler, 
who  seemed  to  have  arrived  at  some  respectability  as  a  man  of 
wealth.  On  his  return  homewards,  he  stopped  at  the  house  of  a 
small  farmer,  where  he  obtained  lodgings  for  the  night,  having 
traveled  with  his  own  horse.  The  family  of  his  host  consisted  of 
the  owner  of  the  house,  his  wife,  and  a  little  grand-child.  The  at- 
tention of  this  child  was,  no  doubt,  attracted  by  the  new  guest,  and 
the  tempting  display  of  his  merchandise.  What,  then,  must  have 
been  her  dismay,  when,  looking  out  from  her  little  bed  during  the 
night,  while  she  was  supposed  asleep,  she  saw  her  wretched  pa- 
rents sever  the  head  of  the  poor  pedler  from  his  body,  and  carry  it 
between  them  to  a  little  garden  adjoining  the  house. 


120  BOOKS  m  OLD  TIMES. 

His  family  not  seeing  him  return  at  the  time  expected,  became 
alarmed,  and  set  out  in  search  of  him.  They  at  length  traced  him 
to  the  house  where  he  had  stopped  for  the  night,  but  both  the 
farmer  and  his  wife  persisted  in  denying  that  he  had  ever  been 
there  ;  and  they  were  obliged  to  leave  the  house  without  obtaining 
any  information  with  respect  to  their  missing  relative.  In  passing, 
however,  near  the  stable,  the  son  recognised  a  part  of  his  father's 
saddle,  which  had  been  imperfectly  covered  with  straw.  This 
aroused  their  suspicions,  and  they  immediately  went  to  the  nearest 
magistrate,  where,  after  giving  information,  they  were  accompanied 
by  him,  and  several  other  persons,  to  the  suspected  house.  The 
man.  and  his  wife  were  immediately  taken  into  custody,  and  a 
search  commenced,  which  for  some  time  proved  fruitless.  The 
little  child  suspecting  the  object  of  their  visit,  related  what  she  had 
seen,  and  directed  them  to  the  garden.  There,  under  a  tree  where 
the  ground  had  been  lately  disturbed,  they  dug,  and  to  their  hor- 
ror discovered  the  body  of  the  murdered  man.  The  old  man  and 
wife,  finding  that  their  guilt  had  been  made  known  by  their  own 
grandchild,  made  an  open  confession  of  their  crime,  and  soon 
afterwards  suffered  the  just  penalty  of  the  law.  a.  m.  r. 


BOOKS  IN  OLD  TIMES. 


During  the  thirteenth  century,  so  scarce  and  precious  were 
the  manuscript  books,  that  it  sometimes  happened  that  if  a  re- 
ligious council  were  assembled,  and  wanted  to  consult  the  works 
of  the  Fathers,  they  had  to  send  to  a  considerable  distance  to 
borrow  them  at  much  expense,  giving  a  heavy  security  for  their 
safe  return.  The  works  of  eminent  medical  men  were  so  rarely 
to  be  met  with,  that  on  one  occasion,  when  a  king  of  France 
wished  to  possess  a  copy  of  the  writings  of  Baize,  a  celebrated 
Arabian  physician,  the  faculty  of  medicine  of  Paris  would  not  lend 
it  even  to  the  monarch  without  pledges. 


THE    ARABIAN   CONQUEST   OF   PERSIA. 


121 


1^ 


THE  AKABIAN  CONQUEST  OF  PERSIA. 

ONE  of  the  strangest  events  chronicled  in  history  is  the  advent  of 
Mahometanism.  The  religion  of  the  false  prophet  entered  the 
world  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  569.  It  seemed  then  a  very  insig- 
nificant affair.  It  was  generally  believed  that  the  thing  would 
speedily  die  out.  But  like  the  fires  in  our  western  prairies,  it  spread 
in  an  almost  inconceivably  brief  time  over  a  great  portion  of  Asia. 
The  introduction  of  this  religion  into  Persia  is  most  astonishing. 
The  Persians,  you  know,  were  formerly  fire-worshipers.  The  first 
intelligence  of  the  religion  of  Mahomet,  it  would  seem,  reached 
Persia  in  the  reign  of  Khosrou.  On  the  banks  of  the  river  Kar.-isu, 
that  monarch  received,  from  an  unknown  person  calling  himsolf 
^^  Mahomet,  the  camel-driver  of  Mecca,'''  a  letter  commanding  him 

VOL.  V.  6  MR 


122  THE   ARABIAN   CONQUEST   OF   PERSIA. 

to  abjure  the  errors  of  that  faith  in  which  his  fathers  had  lived, 
and  to  embrace  the  religion  of  the  only  true  God,  whose  prophet 
Mahomet  declared  himself  to  be.  Indignant  at  a  message  so  in- 
sulting, the  king  tore  the  letter,  and  threw  its  fragments  into  the 
passing  stream.  The  Mahometan  historian  who  records  this  fact, 
is  certain  that  all  the  miseries  which  embittered  the  last  years  of 
Khosrou  were  owing  to  this  sacrilegious  deed.  He  asserts,  also, 
that  the  waters  of  the  river,  which  till  then  had  supplied  the 
means  of  irrigation  to  a  large  extent  of  country,  shrank  in  horror 
into  their  present  deep  and  scanty  channel,  where,  he  observes,  they 
have  ever  since  remained  useless  and  accursed. 

The  first  invasion  of  Persia  by  the  Arabs  was  during  the  reign  of 
the  Khalif  Omar,  who  commanded  one  of  his  generals,  Abu 
Obeyd,  to  cross  the  Euphrates.  The  first  rencounter  was  furious  ; 
but  the  Arabian  chief  lost  the  victory  by  his  imprudent  courage. 
He  observed  a  white  elephant  in  the  centre  of  the  Persian  host, 
and  toward  this  animal,  which  he  deemed  the  object  of  their  su- 
perstition, he  fought  his  way  with  irresistible  valor,  and,  by  one 
blow  of  his  cimeter,  struck  ofi"  his  trunk.  Maddened  with  pain,  the 
furious  animal  rushed  upon  his  assailant,  and  trampled  him  to 
death.  The  Arabs,  dispirited  by  the  loss  of  their  leader,  fled  in 
confusion.  In  another  attempt  to  penetrate  into  Persia,  they  were 
again  defeated  ;  but  this  success  encouraged  the  Persians  to  enter 
upon  a  third  action,  in  which  they  were  overthrown.  They  now 
ascribed  their  ill  success  to  the  incompetency  of  their  sovereigns. 
Ruler  after  ruler  was  dethroned  and  murdered,  until  the  elevation 
of  Yezdijird,  which  gave  a  momentary  hope  to  the  falling  nation. 
He  proposed  a  negotiation  to  the  Arabian  commander,  and  the 
following  conversation  took  place  between  the  king  and  the  Ma- 
hometan ambassador : 

"  We  have  always  held  you,"  said  Yezdijird,  "  in  the  lowest 
estimation.  You  Arabs  have  hitherto  been  known  in  Persia 
either  as  merchants  or  as  beggars.  Your  food  is  green  lizards, 
your  drink  salt  water,  your  clothes  hair-cloth.  But  lately  you 
have  come  in  large  numbers  to  Persia ;  you  have  tasted  good  food  ; 
you  have  drunk  sweet  water ;  you  have  worn  good  clothes.  You 
have  told  your  countrymen  of  these  things,  and  they  are  flocking 


THE   ARABIAN   CONQUEST   OF  PERSIA.  123 

hither  to  partake  of  them.  But,  not  satisfied  with  all  that  you  have 
thus  obtained,  you  wish  to  force  a  new  religion  upon  us.  You  ap- 
pear to  me  like  the  fox  of  our  fable,  who  went  into  a  garden  where 
he  found  plenty  of  grapes.  The  generous  gardener  would  not  dis- 
turb a  poor,  hungry  fox  ;  but  the  animal,  not  content  with  eating 
his  fill,  went  and  brought  all  the  other  foxes  into  the  garden  ;  and 
the  indulgent  owner  was  forced  to  kill  them  to  save  himself  from 
ruin.  However,  as  I  am  satisfied  that  you  have  been  impelled  by 
want,  I  will  not  only  pardon  you,  but  load  your  camels  with  wheat 
and  dates,  that  when  you  return  you  may  feast  your  countrymen. 
But  if  you  are  insensible  to  my  generosity,  and  continue  to  remain 
here,  you  shall  not  escape  my  just  vengeance." 

To  this  the  chief  ambassador  of  the  Arabs  replied,  "  What  you 
have  said  of  the  former  condition  of  the  Arabs  is  true.  Their  food 
was  green  lizards  ;  they  buried  their  infant  daughters  alive  ;  nay, 
some  of  them  feasted  on  dead  carcasses  and  drank  blood  ;  they 
robbed  and  murdered,  and  knew  not  good  from  evil.  Such  was 
our  state.  But  God  in  his  mercy  has  sent  us,  by  a  holy  prophet,  a 
sacred  volume  which  teaches  us  the  true  faith.  By  this  we  are 
commanded  to  war  against  infidels.  We  now  solemnly  require 
you  to  receive  our  religion.  If  you  consent,  not  an  Arab  shall  en- 
ter Persia  without  your  permission,  and  our  leaders  will  only  de- 
mand the  established  taxes  which  all  believers  must  pay.  If  you 
do  not  accept  our  religion,  you  are  required  to  pay  the  tribute  fixed 
for  infidels.  If  you  reject  both  these  propositions,  you  must  pre- 
pare for  war." 

Soon  after  this  interview,  a  furious  battle  ensued  between  the 
Arabs  and  Persians,  in  which  the  latter  were  defeated.  The  booty 
obtained  by  the  invaders  in  this  victory,  and  the  sack  of  the  city 
of  Modayn,  which  immediately  followed,  was  immense ;  and  the 
naked  robbers  of  the  desert  were  enriched  by  the  possession  of 
wealth  far  beyond  their  comprehension.  Silver  they  had  seen  ;  but 
gold  was  a  metal  of  which  they  knew  not  the  value  ;  and  the  ig- 
norant Arabs  went  round  with  their  plunder,  saying,  "  I  will  give 
any  quantity  of  this  yellow  metal  for  a  little  that  is  white." 

Yezdijird,  notwithstanding  this  severe  defeat,  found  means  to 
assemble  another  army.     The  Arabian   khalif  sent  reinforcements 


124  THE   ARABIAN   CONQUEST   OF   PERSIA. 

into  Persia,  intrusting  the  command  of  the  whole  army  to  a  chief 
called  Noman,  with  orders  to  destroy  forever  the  impious  worship 
of  fire.  On  the  plains  of  Nahavund  the  two  armies  continued  in 
sight  of  each  other  for  two  months.  The  Persians  were  determined 
not  to  quit  their  intrenchments,  and  the  zeal  of  the  Arab  leader 
became  impatient  of  delay.  He  drew  up  his  army  in  order  of 
battle,  and  thus  addressed  them  :  "  My  friends,  prepare  yourselves 
to  conquer  or  to  drink  the  sweet  sherbet  of  martyrdom.  I  shall 
now  cry,  '  God  is  great,'  three  times.  At  the  first  cry  you  will 
gird  up  your  loins  ;  at  the  second,  mount  your  steeds  ;  at  the  third, 
point  your  lances,  and  rush  to  victory,  or  to  paradise.  As  for  me, 
I  shall  be  a  martyr." 

Without  a  pause,  the  fanatical  leader  sounded  the  war-cry.  At 
the  second  call  every  man  was  upon  his  horse  ;  and  at  the  third, 
which  was  repeated  by  the  whole  army,  the  Mahometans  charged 
with  a  fury  that  was  irresistible.  Noman  was  slain,  as  he  had  pre- 
dicted ;  but  his  army  gained  a  decisive  and  memorable  victory. 
Thirty  thousand  Persians  were  pierced  by  their  lances ;  eighty 
thousand  more  were  drowned  in  the  deep  trench  by  which  they 
had  surrounded  their  camp.  Their  general,  with  four  thousand 
men,  fled  to  the  hills  ;  but  such  was  the  terror  on  one  hand,  and 
confidence  on  the  other,  that  he  was  pursued,  defeated,  and  slain, 
by  a  body  of  not  more  than  a  thousand  men. 

The  battle  of  Nahavund  decided  the  fate  of  Persia,  which  now 
fell  under  the  dominion  of  the  Arabian  khalifs.  Yezdijird  wan- 
dered for  several  years  up  and  down  the  country,  and  at  last  fled 
to  the  city  of  Meru,  on  the  northern  frontier  of  the  kingdom.  The 
governor  of  that  place  invited  a  neighboring  Tartar  chief  to  seize 
the  person  of  the  fugitive  monarch.  He  accepted  the  otter,  entered 
Meru,  and  made  himself  master  of  the  city.  Yezdijird  escaped  on 
foot,  during  the  contest  between  the  Tartars  and  the  inhabitants. 
He  reached  a  mill  a  i^vi  miles  from  Meru,  and,  by  the  present  of 
his  rich  sword  and  belt,  prevailed  upon  the  miller  to  conceal  him. 
But  this  person,  tempted  by  the  valuable  robes  and  other  equip- 
ments of  his  guest,  murdered  the  unfortunate  monarch  in  his  sleep, 
and  threw  the  corpse  into  the  mill-stream.  The  governor  of  Meru, 
in  a  few  days,  began  to  suflfer  from  the  tyranny  of  the  Tartars,  and 


THE   BELL-KINGER.  125 


the  inhabitants,  seizing  their  arms,  expelled  the  invaders  from  the 
city.  A  diligent  inquiry  was  made  after  Yezdijird,  and  his  fate 
was  soon  known.  The  treacherous  miller  fell  a  victim  to  popular 
rage,  and  the  corpse  of  the  monarch  was  embalmed,  and  sent  to 
Istakhar,  to  be  entombed  in  the  sepulchre  of  his  ancestors.  Thus 
ended  the  religion  of  the  Magians,  as  a  national  faith,  and  since  that 
period  Mahometanism  has  prevailed  in  Persia. 


THE  BELL-EmGER. 


AN  inhabitant  of  the  mad-house  at  Zurich,  who  was  rather  af- 
flicted by  imbecility  than  by  madness,  was  allowed  his  liberty, 
which  he  never  misused.  His  happiness  was  confined  solely  to 
ringing  the  bells  of  the  parish  church.  But  when  he  grew  old, 
whether  he  really  grew  less  capable  of  filling  this  august  function, 
or  whether  the  jealousies  and  intrigues  that  reign  in  republics  pene- 
trate even  to  their  hospitals,  the  poor  creature  was  deprived  of  his 
employment.  This  stroke  plunged  him  into  the  utmost  despair, 
but  without  making  any  complaints,  he  sought  the  master  of  the 
great  works,  and  said  to  him,  with  that  sublime  tranquillity  which 
is  inspired  by  a  determined  resolution  :  "  I  come,  sir,  to  ask  a  favor 
of  you.  I  used  to  ring  the  bells.  It  was  the  only  thing  in  the 
world  in  which  I  could  make  myself  useful ;  and  they  will  not  let 
me  do  it  any  longer.  Do  me  the  pleasure,  then,  of  cutting  oft'  my 
head  ;  I  cannot  do  it  myself,  or  I  would  spare  you  the  trouble." 
At  the  same  time  he  placed  himself  in  an  attitude  to  receive  the  favor 
he  solicited.  The  magistrate  to  whom  this  scene  was  related  was 
extremely  touched  by  it,  and  determined  to  recompense  the  desire 
of  being  useful,  even  in  the  lowest  of  the  citizens.  The  man  was 
re-established  in  his  former  honors,  some  assistance  only  being  ren- 
dered him  in  case  it  should  be  wanted  ;  and  he  died  ringing  the 
bells. 


126  GIUSEPPE  GARIBALDI. 


R 


GIUSEPPE  GAEIBALDI. 


ARiBALDi  was  One  of  tbe  most  prominent  of  the  revolu- 
tionary leaders  in  the  Italian  struggles  of  1848. 
While  in  Rome,  I  had  an  opportunity  of  conversing  with 
several  of  the  people  who  were  acquainted  with  his  move- 
ments, and  all  gave  him  credit  for  very  great  heroism, 
though  as  to  his  being  a  disinterested  patriot,  the  opinion 
'''  f  varied.  It  is  diflScult  foi*  us,  with  such  a  knowledge  of  the 
circumstances  as  we  can  arrive  at,  to  decide  how  much  of  ambition 
there  was  concealed  in  his  measures.  There  was  some,  doubtless  ; 
yet  we  cannot  help  wishing  that  he  and  his  party  had  had  an  op- 
portunity of  trying  their  experiment  with  the  Romans.  It  was  a 
pity,  I  think,  that  the  French  had  not  staid  at  home,  instead  of 
meddling  with  matters  at  Rome. 

Giuseppe  Garibaldi  was  born  about  the  year  1812,  at  Nice,  a 
small  city  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  where  his  father 
followed  the  occupation  of  a  mariner.  The  son  was  brought  up  a 
sailor.  The  principles  of  liberty,  on  which  he  afterwards  acted, 
were  instilled  into  his  mind  early  in  life,  by  his  parents.  Parke 
Godwin,  who  has  taken  much  pains  to  inform  himself  respecting 
the  early  history  of  the  patriot,  says  that  it  was  one  of  the  boy's 
chief  delights  to  read  the  early  history  of  his  country,  and  that  in 
this  exercise  he  was  filled  with  a  desire  to  rival  his  heroic  ances- 
try. During  one  of  the  voyages  which  he  made  in  prosecuting  his 
profession,  he  went  to  Rome.  There,  amid  the  monuments  of  her 
former  splendor  and  greatness,  he  conceived  the  idea,  he  informs 
us,  of  endeavoring  to  raise  her  from  her  degradation.  When  told 
that  a  society  of  Italians  was  already  in  being,  who  had  devoted 
their  lives  to  the  same  work,  the  discovery  filled  him  with  joy. 
Columbus,  he  says,  could  not  have  been  so  happy  when  the  new 
world  first  rose  upon  his  vision.     He  eagerly  enrolled  himself 


) 


PORTBAIT    OK    GARIBALDI. 


GIUSEPPE   GARIBALDI.  129 

among  their  number,  and  when  the  uprising  of  1834  took  place, 
be  became  a  prominent  actor  in  those  eventful  scenes. 

But  the  movement  proved  disastrous  in  its  results,  and  Gari- 
baldi, among  others,  was  condemned  to  die.  He  made  his  escape, 
however,  by  sea,  and  finally  succeeded  in  making  the  coast  of 
France,  whence  he  took  passage  in  a  friendly  vessel  to  Brazil. 
There  he  engaged  in  naval  services,  and  distinguished  himself  in 
several  dangerous  encounters.  It  was  in  this  country  that  he  mar- 
ried a  lady  of  heroic  character,  who  followed  him  in  all  his  sub- 
sequent fortunes,  until  her  death. 

In  1848,  when  the  revolutions  in  Italy  commenced.  Garibaldi 
returned  to  his  native  land.  He  arrived  in  Rome  in  time  to  as- 
sist Mazzini,  Avezzaua,  and  others,  in  their  earlier  efforts  to  organ- 
ize the  Republic.  He  was  appointed  the  general  of  a  body  known 
as  the  Legion,  which  was  composed  of  the  most  accomplished 
military  men  belonging  to  the  liberal  party.  Soon  after  his  ap- 
pointment, France  stepped  in  to  assist  the  Pope  in  recovering 
his  temporal  power.  The  heroism  of  Garibaldi  and  his  legion  is 
spoken  of  as  almost  unparalleled  in  the  military  annals  of  the 
present  century.  For  myself,  not  professing  to  have  much  taste 
in  the  details  of  human  butchery,  I  am  content  to  let  that  statement 
pass  without  debate.  Time  and  again,  during  the  memorable  siege 
of  Rome,  Garibaldi  and  his  men  sallied  beyond  the  city  walls  to 
attack  their  enemies  in  their  entrenchments.  But  they  had  to  con- 
tend against  fearful  odds.  The  walls  were  at  length  broken  down. 
The  French  entered.  Still  the  patriots  sustained  the  shock  of  as- 
sault, day  after  day,  with  cool  perseverance.  At  last,  when  the 
rest  of  the  city  was  compelled  to  surrender.  Garibaldi  and  his  sol- 
diers refused  to  lay  down  their  arms.  They  resolved  to  force  their 
way  to  a  place  of  refuge.  Their  leader's  speech  on  that  occasion  is 
characteristic.  "  Soldiers,"  he  said,  "  in  recompense  of  the  love 
you  may  show  your  country,  I  offer  you  hunger,  thirst,  cold,  war, 
and  death.  Who  accepts  the  terms,  let  him  follow  me  !"  The 
pGor  fellows  followed  him  to  a  man. 

The  retreat  was  full  of  peril,  but  it  was  gallantly  conducted. 
The  object  of  this  band,  in  quitting  Rome,  was  to  reach  Venice  in 
time  to  assist  her  against  the  bombardment  of  the  Austrians.     All 

VOL.  V.  6*  MR 


180  WELLINGTON   AND   THE   MANIAC. 


the  way  they  were  harassed  by  hostile  troops  ;  but  the  people  se- 
cretly sent  them  supplies.  In  crossing  the  Apennines  they  had  the 
most  desperate  encounters.  When  they  reached  Bergo,  near  San 
Marino,  ten  thousand  Austrians  closed  around  them.  Then  they 
found  it  necessary  to  disband,  and  each  one  sought  shelter  for  him- 
self. Even  then  large  numbers  clung  to  Garibaldi.  Among  them 
was  Signora  Anna,  his  devoted  wife,  w4io  would  not,  on  any  ac- 
count, be  separated  from  her  husband.  From  some  port  on  the 
Mediterranean,  having  seized  several  vessels,  the  remnant  of  the 
corps  of  Garibaldi  set  out  by  sea  towards  Venice.  But  the  little 
fleet  was  scattered.  Some  were  never  heard  of  again.  Only  two 
or  three  of  the  vessels  succeeded  in  reaching  the  land  near  the 
mouth  of  the  Po.  There  the  wife  of  Garibaldi  died,  overcome  with 
exhaustion  and  fatigue.  Garibaldi  himself,  now  almost  alone,  in 
some  way  made  his  escape  to  Genoa,  and  thence  sailed  to  this 
country. 


WELLINGTON  AND  THE  MANIAC. 

SOME  years  since,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  was  sitting  at  his 
library  table,  when  the  door  opened,  and,  without  any  an- 
nouncement, in  stalked  a  figure  of  singularly  ill  omen. 

"  Wlio're  you  ?"  asked  the  Duke,  in  his  short,  dry  manner,  look- 
ing up  without  the  least  change  of  countenance,  upon  the  intruder. 

"  I  am  Apollyon." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?" 

"  I  am  sent  to  kill  you." 

"  Kill  me— very  odd." 

"  I  am  Apollyon,  and  I  must  put  you  to  death." 

"  'Bliged  to  do  it  to-day  ?" 

"  I  am  not  told  the  day  or  tlie  hour,  but  I  must  do  my  mission." 

"  Very  inconvenient — very  busy — great  many  letters  to  write — 
call  again,  and  write  me  word — I'll  be  ready  for  you."  And  the 
Duke  went  on  with  his  correspondence. 

The  maniac,  appalled  probably  by  the  stern,  unmovable  old  man, 
backed  out  of  the  room,  and  in  half  an  hour  was  safe  in  Bedlam. 


AN   UNPROFITABLE   CUSTOMER. 


131 


AN  UNPEOFITABLE  CUSTOMEE. 


E  met  an  odd  but  intelligent 


old 


gentleman  one 
-who  seized  our 


day — says  a  New  York  journal 
arm,  and  said,  "  My  young  friend,  I  am  in 
trouble  ;  I  do  a  small  business,  you  know,  a  very  small 
business,  but  it  is  intended  to  be  a  cash  business  in  every 
item.  No  man  can  say  that  I  owe  him  a  cent,  and  no 
man  owes  me  with  my  consent.  But  here  is  a  customer 
who  Jews  me  out  of  money  enough  in  the  course  of  a  year,  to  sup- 
port a  wife,  or  bring  up  a  family  of  children. 

We  began  to  be  alarmed,  and  inquired  if  possibly  we  had  ne- 
glected to  cash  the  purchases  M'e  made  at  his  store. 

"  No,  no,  it  is  not  of  you,  of  course.  But  see  what  the  villain 
has  taken,  and  never  paid  a  cent  for !  He  took  an  umbrella  last 
night.  He  took  my  pocket  knife  yesterday  morning.  He  took 
my  purse  and  all  its  contents,  this  morning. 

"  Why  this  is  no  customer — but  a  thief.  He  belongs  on  Black- 
well's  Island  ;  you  have  grossly  mistaken  his  title." 

"  No,  no,"  he  replied,  "  he  is  respectable  ;  he  is  in  a  handsome 
house  ;  he  associates  well.  He  borrowed  your  gold  pencil  last 
week,  and  wore  your  watch  to  hear  the  Webster  eulog}'.  He 
talked  with  your  wife  at  the  church  door  after  Thackeray's  lecture, 
while  you  run  oflf  with  your  friend,  and  run  on  about  the  lec- 
ture." 

"  Why,  who  is  the  rascal — he  deserves  to  be  caned  ?" 
"  Don't  use  hard  language,"  he  replied,  "  for  he  boasts  you  as 
one  of  his  friends,  aye,  and  your  wife,  too.     I  have  seen  in  his  pos- 
session her  breast-pin — keep  cool — and  her  marriage  ring.     He 
did  not  steal  it,  either." 

"  Tell  me  the  villain's  name.     He  shall  pay  for  his  impudence." 


132         THE  SHARK  AND  THE  TURTLE. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  "  there  you  mistake  agaiu.  He  never  pays. 
But  I'll  show  you  his  name."  And  drawing  us  nearer  the  gas 
light,  he  opened  his  book  of  memoranda,  and  pointed  to  the  word, 
written  in  great  capitals — the  meanest  of  all  debtors — forg""""' 

NESS. 


THE  SHAKK  AND  THE  TURTLE. 

THE  author  of  "  The  Voyage  to  India,"  a  late  English  work,  thus 
describes  a  combat  which  he  once  witnessed  in  the  Straits  of 
Malacca,  between  a  shark  and  a  turtle :  "  One  day,  while  lying 
at  anchor  and  whistling  for  a  breeze,  the  steward  rushed  in  with 
the  strange  announcement  that  a  shark  and  a  turtle  were  engaged 
in  a  fight  alongside.  Doubtful  and  amazed  at  the  account  of  so 
unusual  and  unequal  a  combat,  we  all  rushed  on  deck  ;  and  there, 
sure  enough,  we  saw  an  immense  shark  and  a  turtle  of  venerable 
antiquity,  if  one  might  judge  by  his  size  and  the  profusion  of 
barnacles  and  other  parasites  with  which  he  was  decorated.  With- 
out respect  for  his  age  and  quaker-like  habits,  the  shark  made 
furious  charges  at  poor  turtle,  who  opposed  the  dangerous  jaws 
of  the  enemy  with  the  full  front  of  his  back,  on  which  no  im- 
pression could  be  made.  On  one  occasion  the  turtle  did  not  turn 
sharply  enough,  which  cost  him  the  greater  part  of  one  unlucky 
flipper.  Indignant  at  the  perversion  of  such  aldermanic  banquet 
to  the  voracious  and  indiscriminating  appetite  of  a  shark,  our 
skipper  intervened  with  a  harpoon,  but  with  such  ill-judged  aim, 
that  it  fell  butt-end  foremost,  instead  of  on  the  point ;  where- 
upon, in  our  disappointment,  we  would  gladly  have  pitched  him 
after  it.  It,  however,  answered  the  purpose  of  scaring  away  the 
shark  for  a  few  moments,  which  the  turtle  made  the  most  of  to 
scuttle  oflf  to  the  bottom,  where  he  was  safe  from  the  attacks  of 
his  ravenous  admirer." 


A  CUNNINa  HORSE. 


188 


A  CUNNmG  HOESE. 


jT  the  close  of  the  revolutionary  war,  when  everything 
was  unsettled  and  in  disorder,  a  man  lost  a  valuable 
young  horse,  stolen  from  the  stable  in  the  night. 
A?;i|p^^^-  Great  search  and  inquiry  were  made  for  him,  but 
\  i/-;.fe  no  tidings  of  him  could  be  heard,  and  no  trace  of  him 
*>^     could  ever  be  discovered. 

Almost  six  full  years  had  now  elapsed,  and  the  recollection  even 
of  the  lost  animal  had  nearly  failed  from  the  mind.  At  this  pe- 
riod a  gentleman  from  the  east,  in  the  course  of  business,  was  trav- 
eling on  horseback  towards  Philadelphia.  When  within  four  or 
five  miles  of  a  village  on  the  road,  the  traveler  was  overtaken  by 
a  respectable  looking  gentleman  on  horseback,  a  resident  of  the 
village,  returning  home  from  a  short  business  ride.  Riding  along 
side  by  side,  they  soon  engaged  in  pleasant  desultory  conversation. 
The  gentleman  was  immediately  struck  with  the  appearance  of  the 
traveler's  horse.  And  every  glance  of  the  eye  cast  towards  him, 
seemed  to  excite  an  interest  and  curiosity  to  look  at  him  again, 
and  to  revive  a  recollection  of  something  he  had  seen  before,  and 
soon  established  in  his  mind  the  impression  that  for  all  the  world 
he  looked  like  the  iorse  he  had  lost  some  six  years  ago.  This  soon 
became  so  irresistibly  fixed  in  his  mind,  that  he  remarked  to  the 
traveler — 

"  You  have  a  fine  horse,  sir." 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  an  exceedingly  valuable  animal." 

"  What  is  his  age,  sir  ?" 

"  Well,  I  suppose  him  to  be  ten  or  eleven  years  old." 

''  You  did  not  raise  him,  then  ?" 

"  No,  I  purchased  him  of  a  stranger,  a  traveler,  nearly  six  years 
since." 

"  Do  you  reside  in  this  part  of  the  country  ?" 


134  A  CUNNING  HORSE. 

"  No,  I  reside  in  the  Bay  State,  and  am  on  ray  way  to  Philadel- 
phia on  business.     How  far  is  it  to  New  York  ?" 

"  Why,  sir,  I  really  regret  to  interrupt  you,  or  put  you  to  any 
inconvenience,  but  I  am  constrained  to  say  I  believe  you  have  in 
your  possession  a  horse  tKat  I  must  claim." 

The  traveler  looked  withr^urprise  and  amazement,  and  replied, 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?" 

"  I  believe  the  horse  you  are  on  in  truth  belongs  to  me.  Five 
years  ago,  the  past  autumn,  a  valuable  young  horse  was  stolen  from 
my  stable.  Great  search  was  made  for  him,  but  no  tidings  of  him 
ever  came  to  hand.  In  color,  appearance,  and  movements,  it  seems 
to  me  he  was  the  exact  counterpart  of  the  horse  you  are  on.  It 
would  be  hardly  possible,  I  think,  for  two  to  be  so  near  alike. 
But  my  horse  was  an  uncommonly  intelligent  and  sagacious  ani- 
mal ;  and  I  will  make  a  proposition  to  you  that  will  place  the  mat- 
ter in  such  a  position  that  the  result  will  be  conclusive  and  satis- 
factory, I  think,  to  both  of  us.  We  are  now  within  a  mile  of  my 
residence,  which  is  on  the  road,  in  the  centre  of  the  village  before 
us.  When  we  arrive  at  my  house,  your  horse  shall  be  tied  to  the 
east  post  in  front  of  my  door,  and  the  horse  I  am  on  to  the  west 
post.  After  standing  a  short  time,  the  bridle  of  your  horse  shall 
be  taken  off,  and  if  he  does  not  go  to  a  pair  of  bars  on  the  west 
side  of  the  house,  and  pass  over,  and  go  around  to  the  east  side  of 
the  barn,  and  pull  out  a  pin  and  open  the  stable  door,  I  will  not 
claim  him.  If  he  does,  I  will  furnish  you  conclusive  evidence  that 
he  was  bred  by  me,  but  never  sold — that  he  was  stolen  from  me 
just  at  the  conclusion  of  the  war,  about  the  very  time  you  say  you 
purchased  him." 

The  traveler  assented  to  the  trial.  The  horse  was  hitched  to  the 
post,  as  proposed,  and  stood  a  minute ;  the  bridle  was  then  taken 
oflf,  when  he  raised  his  head,  pricked  up  his  ears,  looked  up  the 
street  several  times,  and  then  deliberately  and  slowly  walked  past 
the  house  and  over  the  bars,  and  to  the  stable  door,  as  described, 
and  with  his  teeth  drew  out  the  pin  and  opened  the  door,  and  en- 
tered his  old  stall.  We  hardly  need  add  that  he  was  recognized  by 
the  neighbors,  who  fully  attested  to  the  facts  stated  by  the  claimant, 
and  the  traveler  lost  his  title  to  the  horse. 


!-«., 


THE    DISCONSOLATE    CANARY    BIRD, 


THE   CANARY  BIRD'S  LOVE.  137 


THE  CANARY  BIRD'S  LOYB. 


^< 


ROFEssioNAL  engagements,  a  few  summer's  since,  led  me 
repeatedly  to  a  dwelling  where  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
learning  many  curious  things  in  the  conduct  of  a  canary, 
'^  whom  I  shall  call  Quilla.  Quilla  was  a  chap  who  had  had 
?  a  bit  of  experience  in  his  day.  Two  or  three  years  had 
smiled  upon  his  domestic  enjoyment.  He  had  a  "  little  house 
well  filled,  and  a  little  wife  well  willed,"  who  ate  with  him  from 
the  same  pile  of  seeds,  washed  in  the  same  sparkling  water,  and  par- 
took freely  of  all  his  nick-nacks.  The  two  birds  were  very  happy. 
Quilla  was  a  splendid  singer,  and  his  partner  was  an  accomplished 
dancer.     Their  love  was  mutual  and  strong. 

Quilla  had  many  admirers,  among  whom  was  a  lady  of  consid- 
erable taste,  who  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  place.  She  listened 
with  pleasure  to  his  animated  and  musical  strains,  and  gazed  with 
admiration  on  his  bright  and  golden  plumage.  .He  was  a  model 
bird  ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  this  lady  made  a  proposition  for 
an  exchange  of  birds,  which  was  accepted,  and  Quilla  was  duly  in- 
stalled in  his  new  relations.  He  looked  sad  and  was  silent.  Mel- 
ancholy brooded  over  him.  He  bathed  less  frequently  in  the  lim- 
pid fountain.  He  ate  more  sparingly  of  the  delicacies  placed  before 
him.  The  brilliant  hues  of  his  feathers  faded,  and  the  charm  of 
his  life  seemed  vanished.  Had  he  understood  English,  it  was  evi- 
dent he  would  have  said, 

"Thou  "bringest  me  viands,  thou  askeat  for  songs; 
Bring  haci:  the  love  that  I've  lost." 

In  the  canary  dialect  he  doubtless  did  utter  his  plaint  of  wo.  His 
mistress  thought  it  a  bird-freak,  and  flattered  herself  that  he  would 
soon  cease  to  mourn  over  the  dissolution  of  his  former  ties,  and  be 
himself  again.  But  she  did  not  know  the  heart  of  the  bird. 
Days  and  weeks  came  and  went,  and  there  was  silence  in  the  tent 


188  THE   CANARY  BIRD'S  LOVE. 

of  Quilla ;  and  the  fear  began  to  be  entertained  that  he  would 
pass  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  sadness  and  sorrow,  and  that  the 
spell  of  song  would  come  over  him  no  more.  Expedients  for  rous- 
ing the  fire  of  music  in  him  were  proposed. 

"  They  "bid  him  seek  in  change  of  scene  the  charms  that  others  see." 

They  took  him  to  hear  the  best  canary  singing,  hoping  thus  to  kin- 
dle his  enthusiasm  and  unseal  the  fount  of  melody  within. 

Near  by  dwelt  a  loving  pair  of  his  race,  called  Dick  and  Dora. 
Dick  was  master  of  his  art,  and  Dora  performed  in  the  dance  with 
a  degree  of  elegance  that  any  bird  might  envy.  They  hung  his 
cage,  which  contained  himself  and  partner,  near  to  Dick's.  Dick 
sang  and  Dora  danced  ;  but  the  song  and  the  dance  seemed  only 
a  mockery  of  his  grief  In  this  way  a  number  of  months  passed. 
The  wild  gush  of  song  was  circling  around  Quilla,  but  it  woke  no 
echo  in  his  disconsolate  bosom.  The  truth  was,  he  could  not  sing 
if  he  would,  and  he  would  not  if  he  could.  This  expedient  failed, 
and  he  was  removed  to  the  house  of  his  mistress. 

After  this,  another  cage  was  brought,  and  his  uncongenial  mate 
was  placed  in  it,  and  Quilla  had  his  house  all  to  himself  Still  he 
was  silent.  Would  he  never  sing  again  ?  Weeks  passed,  and  he 
raised  no  note — pitched  no  tune.  Another  thought  struck  his  mis- 
tress, and  the  other  cage  was  placed  in  a  position  where  he  could 
not  see  it,  and  he  had  no  means  of  knowing  that  the  other  party 
to  this  forced  alliance  longer  lived  ;  and  then,  after  a  little  while, 
he  woke  once  more,  in  all  its  fulness,  the  song  of  other  days  ;  and 
yet,  when  he  was  sweeping  on  in  full  cadence,  if  the  other  cage 
was  placed  in  sight,  he  would  immediately  relapse  into  his  former 
mood.  After  a  long  time,  however,  he  yielded  an  inch  or  two  more, 
so  far  as  to  sing  in  sight  of  the  other  cage,  and  then  when  both 
cages  were  placed  on  the  same  table ;  and  at  last  he  yielded  so 
far  as  to  enter  the  cage  of  the  other  bird  and  sing,  when  the  pas- 
sage between  the  two  cages  was  kept  open  ;  but  he  would  not  sing 
if  he  was  shut  in.  He  would  go  in  as  a  visitor,  and  warble  some 
favorite  air ;  but  in  no  case  would  he  sanction,  by  his  conduct,  the 
idea  that  he  was  there  on  any  other  terms. 


WHAT  YOUNG  MEN  HAVE  DONE.         139 

Reader,  was  not  this  a  noble  bird  ?  He  would  not,  of  his  own 
accord,  leave  a  dear,  tried,  faithful  friend.  If  forced  to  do  so,  he 
would  cherish  the  memory  of  that  friend  to  the  last.         viator. 


WHAT  YOOTTG  MEN  HAYE  DOISTE. 

THE  idea  is  prevalent  in  some  communities,  that  the  young  men 
are  unfit  for  generals  or  statesmen,  and  that  they  must  be 
kept  in  the  background  until  their  physical  strength  is  impaired 
by  age,  and  their  intellectual  faculties  blunted  by  years.  Let  us 
look  at  the  history  of  the  past,  and  from  the  long  list  of  heroes 
and  statesmen  who  have  nobly  distinguished  themselves,  we  will 
find  that  they  were  young  men  who  performed  those  acts  which 
have  won  for  them  an  imperishable  meed  of  fame,  and  which  placed 
their  names  on  the  page  of  history.  Alexander,  the  conqueror  of 
the  whole  civilized  world,  namely,  Greece,  Egypt,  and  Asia,  died  at 
thirty-three.  Bonaparte  was  crowned  Emperor  of  France  when 
thirty-three  years  of  age.  Pitt,  the  younger  brother,  was  thirty- 
three  years  of  age,  when  in  Britain's  Parliament  he  boldly  advo- 
cated the  cause  of  the  American  colonies  ;  and  but  twenty-two  when 
made  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.  Edmund  Burke,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-five,  was  the  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  Our  own  Wash- 
ington was  but  twenty-five  when  he  covered  the  retreat  of  the 
British  at  Braddock's  defeat,  and  was  appointed  to  be  commander- 
in-chief  of  all  the  Virginia  forces.  Alexander  Hamilton,  at  twenty, 
was  a  Lieutenant  Colonel  and  aid  to  Washington  ;  at  twenty-five,  a 
member  of  Congress  ;  and  stl  thirty-two,  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 
Thomas  Jeff'erson  was  but  twenty-three  when  he  drafted  the  ever- 
memorable  Declaration  of  Independence.  At  the  age  of  thirty 
years.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  occupied  the  mechanical  chair  at  Cam- 
bridge College,  England,  having  by  his  scientific  discoveries  ren- 
dered his  name  immortal. 


140 


EIHTORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


EDITOEIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


OME  explanation  respecting  our  advertising  depart- 
ment may  not  be  out  of  place.  Formerly,  when  our 
edition  was  comparatively  small,  our  advertising  pa- 
tronage was  inconsiderable.  Now,  however,  that  our 
list  has  become  more  extensive  than  any  similar  magazine 
published  in  the  country,  advertisers  find  it  for  their  inter- 
est to  resort  more  generally  to  our  pages.  We  wish  to  say,  once 
and  for  all,  that  neither  the  editor  nor  publisher  must  be  understood 
to  endorse  all  that  appears  in  these  advertisements.  We  cannot 
take  it  upon  ourselves  to  exclude  the  advertisement  of  everything 
which  does  not  square  with  our  notions.  That  would  be  an  un- 
warrantable censorship.  One  thing,  however,  we  always  mean  to 
do  :  to  exclude  advertisements  of  any  article  whatever,  let  it  ema- 
nate from  what  quarter  it  may,  if  its  influence  is  known  or  believed 
to  be  positively  pernicious,  in  a  moral  point  of  view.  More  than 
this  we  cannot  undertake  to  do.  Our  patrons  embrace  classes  of 
widely  diverse  opinions.  It  is  no  more  than  justice  to  them,  that 
we  should  bring  before  the  eyes  of  all  of  them  the  statements,  of 
our  different  advertisers.  No  one  (provided  we  do  not  give  cur- 
rency to  immoral  productions)  is  harmed  by  such  an  insertion. 
Everybody,  of  course,  is  left  at  liberty  to  judge  for  himself,  as  to 
the  merits  or  demerits  of  the  wares  advertised.  If  we  have  ever 
transgressed  the  rule  we  have  laid  down  for  the  exclusion  of  adver- 
tisements, it  has  been  unwittingly,  and  we  hope,  with  jealous  care, 
never  to  fall  into  a  like  error  again. 

"  Uncle  Frank, — Will  you  not  tell  us  what  is  meant  by  the 
sub-marine  telegraph,  and  the  underground  railroad  ?  By  so  doing 
you  will  much  oblige  Some  of  the  Little  Ones." 

Well,  listen,  then.  The  electric  telegraph  wires  between  Paris 
and  London  are  enclosed  in  a  tube,  and  this  tube  is  conducted  from 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  141 

England  to  France  on  the  bottom  of  that  part  of  the  English  chan- 
nel called  the  Strait  of  Dover.  It  is  a  great  work,  having  cost  an 
immense  sum  of  money.  The  "  underground  railroad"  is  quite  a 
different  affair.  The  expression  is  what  some  of  the  older  heads 
call  figurative,  and  is  used,  now  and  then,  to  indicate  the  sly  and 
covert  manner  by  which  the  slaves  of  the  South,  who  to  better 
their  condition,  by  running  away  from  their  masters,  travel  towards 
Canada. 

WHO    IS    "  MARK    FORRESTER  ?" 

Under  the  sobriquet  of  "  Mark  Forrester,"  was  formerly  con- 
ducted, in  a  very  creditable  manner,  the  Boys'  and  Girls'  Maga- 
zine. The  magazine,  in  process  of  time,  changed  proprietors,  and 
M:.rk,  by  some  means,  was  superseded  in  the  editorial  chair  by 
"  Francis  Forrester."  Well,  a  short  time  since,  this  magazine  con- 
tained a  letter,  purporting  to  be  from  the  original  Mark,  who 
speaks  in  very  complimentary  terms  of  the  manner  in  which  his 
cousin  Frank  is  conducting  the  work,  and  wishes  the  publishers 
God-speed.  Thereat,  a  literary  gentleman,  an  acquaintance  of  the 
editor,  takes  exceptions,  and  writes  to  me  the  letter  which  follows. 
Who  is  the  genuine  "  Mark  Forrester  ?"  Shall  the  public  know, 
or  are  they  to  be  left  on  the  rack  as  they  have  so  long  been  about 
the  original  Dr.  Townsend  ? 

"Boston,  Fehruarxj  17,  1854. 

Dear  Uncle  Frank, — I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you.  I  was 
rather  unceremoniously  "  unseated"  as  editor  of  Forrester's  Boys' 
and  GirW  Magazine,  some  twelve  months  since.  Having  origin- 
ated the  work,  and  labored  zealously  for  five  years  to  make  it 
worthy  of  the  confidence  of  its  patrons,  I  parted  with  it  with  regret ; 
but  as  I  had  no  remedy,  I  determined,  like  '  Cheerful  Cherry,'  to 
make  the  best  of  it.  Under  these  circumstances,  you  may  judge  of 
my  surprise  at  seeing  in  the  January  number  for  this  year,  a  letter 
purporting  to  have  been  written  by  me,  in  which  I  am  made  to 
endorse  the  management  of  the  Magazine  during  the  year  just 
closed.  Now,  whatever  I  might  have  been  willing  to  do,  had  I 
been  properly  asked,  I  certainly  do  not  wish  to  have  my  name  used 
to  deceive  my  former  friends.     The  letter  in  question  was  not  writ- 


142  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

ten  by  me,  but  by  some  other  person,  entirely  ivithout  my  knowl- 
edge and  consent.  And  I  must  express  my  regret  that  the  publish- 
ers of  the  work,  having  voluntarily  closed  my  connection  with  it, 
should  have  inserted  a  letter,  whatever  might  be  the  motive,  which, 
it  seems  to  me,  must  have  borne  on  the  face  of  it  the  evidence  that 
it  was  spurious. 

Truly  your  friend,  mark  forrbster." 

AN    ITEM    ABOUT    NEBRASKA. 

At  this  juncture,  when  there  is  so  much  talk  about  Nebraska, 
perhaps  a  little  piece  of  news  which  my  brother,  the  publisher,  has 
to  communicate,  may  be  worth  listening  to.  A  gentleman,  residing 
in  Nebraska,  recently  transmitted  the  names  of  ten  subscribers  to 
the  Cabinet,  the  parties  all  living  in  his  neighborhood. 


Here  are  some  verses  written  by  a  girl  not  yet  in  her  teens,  I 
knew  her  once,  when  she  was  four  years  old,  but  have  not  seen  her 
since.  There  is  genius  in  the  lines  not  always  exhibited  in  riper 
years.  For  the  rest,  they  speak  for  themselves.  They  need  no 
editorial  comment. 

DIALOGUE    BETWEEN    A    STAR    AND    FLOWER. 

Star. 

I  dwell  in  the  realms  of  boundless  space, 

My  home  is  the  deep  blue  sky ; 
I  shed  my  light  on  the  angel's  face 

As  swift  he  is  gliding  by; 
And  from  the  depths  of  boundless  blue, 
I  silently  twinkle  o'er  earth  and  you. 

Flower. 

I  lovingly  blossom  below  thy  ray, 

My  home  is  the  genial  ground : 
I  flourish  and  wither,  I  blossom  and  fade 

As  the  seasons  roll  quickly  round ; 
And  to  thy  home  far,  far  above 
I  lift  my  lowly  head  with  love. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  143 

Star. 
I  watch  with  smiles  the  lovely  flowers 

On  the  earth  so  far  beneath, 
From  the  rose  which  blooms  in  yonder  bowers 

To  the  violet  on  the  heath  : 
None  are  too  lowly  or  too  small, 
But  I  lovingly  twinkle  over  them  all. 


NEW    PUBLICATIONS. 

1.  Sanders''  School  Headers. — Without  desiring  to  disparage  the 
eflbrts  of  others  who  have  prepared  a  series  of  reading  books  for 
schools — and  there  are  several  such  who  have  succeeded  happily 
in  this  task — I  cannot  help  speaking  approvingly  of  the  contribu- 
tions in  this  branch  of  elementary  instruction  of  Mr.  Charles  W. 
Sanders.  He  has  been  long  and  laboriously  engaged  in  this  de- 
partment. Some  years  since,  as  the  public  need  not  be  told,  this 
gentleman  brought  out  a  series  of  readers,  some  five  in  number, 
which  have  enjoyed  an  immense  popularity  ;  and  he  has  just  is- 
sued a  new  series  of  five  books,  which,  from  the  examination  I  have 
been  able  to  give  them,  I  judge  are  even  more  worthy  of  the  pub- 
lie  favor  than  the  first.  I  notice,  too,  that  they  are  spoken  of  in 
the  highest  terms  by  a  large  number  of  teachers,  whose  judgment, 
of  course,  is  worth  more  than  my  own.  Both  series  are  published 
by  Messrs.  Ivison  &  Phinney,  of  this  city. 

Phillips,  Sampson  &  Co.  have  issued  several  small  volumes  re- 
cently, admirably  adapted  to  the  entertainment  and  moral  improve- 
ment of  the  young,  which  I  can  cordially  recommend.     They  are 

2.  Little  Mary  ;  or^  Talks  and  Tales  for  Children.  By  H. 
Trusta,  autlior  of  "'  Sunny  Side." 

3.  Little  Blossorn's  Reward.     By  Mrs.  Emily  Ware. 

4.  Holidays  at  Chestnut  Hill.     By  Cousin  Mary. 

5.  Nonuntum  and  Natick  is  the  title  of  a  very  entertaining  and 
instructive  book  about  the  Massachusetts  Indians.  It  is  written  by 
Sarah  S.  Jacobs,  and  published  by  the  Massachusetts  Sabbath 
School  Society.  The  pictures  in  it  are  well  executed  and  strikingly 
illustrative. 

6.  The  Boy^s  Own  Guide  to  Good  Principles,  Habits,  and  Man- 


144  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

ners. — The  same  Society  also  publish  this  volume,  from  the  pen  of 
my  esteemed  and  gifted  friend,  William  Simonds,  one  of  the  edi- 
tors of  the  "  New  England  Farmer."  I  should  rejoice  to  hear  that 
the  book  had  an  immense  circulation.  It  is  highly  worthy  of  such 
honor.     It  will  carry  a  blessing  with  it  wherever  it  goes. 

1.  The  Humorous  Speaker,  This  is  a  choice  collection  of 
amusing  pieces,  in  prose  and  poetry,  for  the  use  of  schools.  It 
purports  to  emanate  from  Oliver  Oldham,  who  has  done  his  work 
well,  whoever  he  be.     It  is  published  by  Messrs.  Ivison  &  Phinney. 


BUSINESS    NOTICES. 

Among  the  hotels  of  the  first  rank  in  Boston,  is  the  Adams^ 
House.  It  is  admirably  managed,  and  every  employe  in  the  es- 
tablishment seems  desirous  of  pleasing  the  guests.  It  is  in  a  cen- 
tral locality,  too,  and  business  men  will  find  it  as  convenient  in  this 
respect,  as  any  other.  I  have  been  always  remarkably  well  used 
at  the  Adams  House,  and  can  confidently  recommend  it  to  my 
traveling  friends. 

The  Columbia  House,  in  Philadelphia,  is  equally  worthy  of  pa- 
tronage. The  brothers  Ferguson,  whom  I  have  known  so  long 
and  favorably,  are  no  longer  the  proprietors  ;  but  I  was  gratified 
to  perceive,  on  a  recent  visit  to  the  city  of  brotherly  love,  that  their 
successors  are  conducting  the  establishment  with  the  same  regard 
to  the  comfort  of  their  guests.  The  Columbia  House  aff'ords  the 
traveler  one  of  the  cosiest,  quietest  retreats  to  be  met  with  away 
from  home. 

One  of  the  most  extensive  manufacturing  establishments  in  Ver- 
mont, is  at  St.  Johnsbury,  the  proprietors  of  which  are  the  Messrs. 
Fairbanks.  Here  are  manufactured  the  celebrated  Platform  Scales, 
the  best  article  of  the  kind,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  judge, 
at  present  in  the  market.  All  sizes  of  scales  are  made  at  this  es- 
tablishment. Their  structure  is  the  very  simplest  imaginable.  If 
that  axiom  in  mechanics  is  true,  that  the  more  simple  the  machine, 
the  more  perfect  and  valuable,  (and  I  believe  it  is  true,)  I  see  not 
how  any  other  form  of  balance  can  successfully  compete  with  this 
of  the  Messrs.  Fairbanks. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  145 

Mr.  Hiram  Anderson  says  that  the  rush  threatens  to  be  as  for- 
midable as  ever  this  spring,  at  his  great  carpet  establishment  in  the 
Bowery.  He  considers  it  a  notable  fact,  that  the  rush  in  this 
quarter  should  appear  so  much  earlier  in  the  spring  than  the 
rushes  in  the  meadows,  and  desires  scientific  botanists  and  others 
to  look  into  the  matter.  His  store  is  open  for  the  purpose  of 
scientific  or  other  investigations,  at  all  reasonable  hours  every  day, 
except  Sunday.  

CHARADE    NO.    IV. 

An  animal  rodent, 
Though  puny,  yet  potent, 
My  first  for  note  aiming, 
A  name  will  be  claiming. 

Though  article  humble, 
My  second  might  grumble, 
If  one  so  much  needed 
Were  passed  by  unheeded. 

My  whole  in  time  olden. 
O'er  schoolboy  w^as  holden, 
As  sign  from  the  master 
Of  coming  disaster. 

In  these  days  enlightened. 
Boys  ne'er  thus  are  frightened, 
For  moral  persuasion 
Suits  this  generation. 

Yet  mayhap,  one  wiser. 

Some  new-school  despiser, 

Could  guess  my  name  double, 

Ne'er  giving  him  trouble.  laura. 


UNCLE  Frank's  historical  queries,  no.  hi. 

21.  Who  was  Frederick  the  Great  ?  when  was  he  born  ?  and  when 
did  he  die  ? 

22.  When  did  the  Jews  first  appear  in  England  ? 
VOL.  V.  ^ 


146  EDITOKIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


23.  When  were  coats  of  arms  first  used  in  England  ? 

24.  When  was  the  first  newspaper  published  in  Great  Britain  ?  what 
was  it  called  ? 

25.  At  what  time  did  the  translation  of  the  Bible  now  in  common  use 
among  Protestants  originate?  under  whose  patronage  and  direction? 

26.  What  was  the  Spanish  Armada  ?  at  what  period  in  history  does 
it  figure  1  and  what  was  the  result  of  it  ? 

27.  Who,  from  a  very  humble  origin,  became  Lord  Mayor  of  London, 
at  three  different  elections?  and  when  were  the  elections  respec- 
tively ? 

28.  When  did  the  Turks  take  Constantinople  1  and  what  was  the 
result  of  this  capture  to  the  Roman  empire  ? 

29.  When  was  Lisbon,  in  Portugal,  destroyed?  and  in  what  manner? 
80.  When  were  the  Sandwich  Islands  discovered?  and  who  was  the 

discoverer  ? 


anagrams  of  scripture  proper  names,  no.  ii. 

1.  His  tar-pan.  3.  Sea-garden. 

2.  Ship  a  hen.  4.  Tame  kid.  s.  e.  w. 


enigma    no.    III. 

A  teacup  would  hold  me,  but  were  I  in  such,  I  should  feel  T  had 
"  taken  a  cup  too  much  !"  So  you  see  I  am  small ;  yet  without  me,  I 
ween,  no  beauty  in  nature  could  ever  be  seen.  Do  you  wish  that  my 
hue  should  distinctly  be  stated  ?  I  am  now  of  one  color,  I  am  now 
variegated.  In  the  whole  world  there  is  not  an  acre  of  ground  where 
my  poor  little  person  is  not  to  be  found — 

"  In  the  house,  above,  beneath  it, 
On  the  land  and  underneath  it." 

In  the  ocean,  the  sea,  in  the  river,  the  lake,  in  the  cistern,  the  gutter, 
my  home  I  can  make  :  with  the  wealthy  I  stay,  with  the  beggar  I  roam, 
and  with  the  poor  negro  I  feel  quite  at  home ;  while  under  the  lash, 
with  him  I  have  wept,  with  the  Emperor  Nicholas  often  I've  slept. 
Some  people  assert  that  whole  volumes  I've  spoken,  when  I'm  just  as 
certain  no  silence  I've  broken  ;  yet  I've  taught  pious  lessons,  but  never- 
theless I've  taught  as  much  evil  I'm  free  to  confess;  and  now  you  must 
own  that  enough  of  concession  I've  made  with  the  foregoing  candid 
confession.  s.  n. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  147 


REBUS    NO.    II. 

I'm  seven  letters;  and  I  name 

A  man,  who  does  high  office  claim. 

Decapitate  me,  and  I  still 

Survive,  you'll  find,  a  tale  to  tell ; 

Again  behead,  I  tell  of  gladness ; 

Again — I  oft  am  cause  of  sadness; 

Once  more,  and  still  I  live  to  say 

"What  you,  no  doubt,  did  yesterday ; 

Beheaded  yet  once  more,  I  name 

Yourself,  in  tongue  of  classic  fame ; 

At  last,  of  all  but  one  bereft. 

That  one  a  Latin  word  is  left.  aliquis. 


The  proverb  enigmatically  expressed  in  the  "  game  of  proverbs,"  in 
the  February  number,  is  this :  "  Where  there  is  a  20  ill,  there  is  a  way.'' 

It  was  found  out  by  Henry  A.  Danker,  of  Troy,  N.  Y. ;  L.  M.  and 
C.  M.  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.;  N.  0.  U.  of  Rose  Cliff,  N.  Y. 

answer  to  charade  no.  iii. 
Glow-worm. 
Answered  by  Henry  A.  Danker,  of  Troy,  N.  Y. 


answer  to  c.  h.  little  s  question. 
Night-shade. 
Answered  by  0.  L.  S.  of  New  York  City ;  L.  M.  and  C.  M.  of  Brook- 
lyn,  N.  Y. ;  L.  W.  H.  of  Williamstown,  Ms. 


S.    N.'s    TWO    disjointed    PROVERBS. 

1.  "  A  great  many  of  our  difficulties  may  be  overcome  by  assiduity  and 
proper  diligence'' 

2.  "  Mischief  lurks  under  dissimulation.''^ 

Answered  by  Albert  Danker,  jr.  of  Troy,  N.  Y. ;  L.  M.  and  C.  M.  of 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  

answer  to  budget  of  anagrams,  no.  ii. 

1.  Real  fun,         Funeral.  4.  Evil  fast.  Festival. 

2.  In  magic  tale,  Enigmatical,    5.  No  more  stars.    Astronomers. 

3.  Hard  case,        Charades.        6.  Nay  I  repent  it,  Penitentiary. 
Solved  by  Henry  A.  Danker,  of  Troy,  N.  Y. ;  L.  M.  and  C.  M.  of 

Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


148  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

A    PROTEST    ON    SUN-PLANTING FOR    S.    N. 

"Plant  the  sun!"  pray  don't  do  it,  for  first  you  pervade 
Universal  expanse  with  the  deadly  night-shade. 
O  time  dark  and  dismal !  but  brighter  the  story, 
When  your  seed,  coming  up,  should  produce  morning-glory, 
"When  each  sprouting  sunbeam  shoul-d  golden  rods  show, 
And  thyme,  so  much  needed,  in  gardens  should  grow ; 
When  the  days  eye  should  open  in  wonder  so  wide, 
That  the  sun-Jlower,  full-orbed,  it  might  rival  in  pride. 
Bnt  then,  pray  don't  do  it     We're  flowers  of  an  hour. 
While  he's  annual,  perennial,  a  stock  July  flower. 
Oh,  be  less  ambitious  your  garden  to  fill — 
Let  the  sun  give  us  moon-sleeps  and  four-6 -clock  still ; 
Let  him,  golden  immortal,  still  show  his  bright  face,  , 
Lest  some  fearful  great  touch-me-not  spring  in  his  place. 
Norwich,  Conn.  o.  m.  8. 

ANSWER    TO    HISTORICAL    QUERIES,    NO.    II. 

10.  Tallow  candles  were  invented  in  1290. 

11.  The  satellites  of  Jupiter  were  discovered  by  Galileo  in  1608. 

12.  The  circulation  of  the  blood  was  discovered  by  William  Harvey 
about  the  year  1628. 

13.  Joan  of  Arc  flourished  in  the  fifteenth  century.  She  was  burned 
at  the  stake  in  the  market-place  of  Rouen  on  the  30th  of  May,  1431. 

14.  The  insurrection  of  Jack  Cade  was  an  opposition  raised  by  him 
against  the  government  during  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  in  the 
year  1451.     He  pretended  to  be  a  descendant  from  Edward  the  Third. 

15.  The  plague  in  London  was  in  the  year  1665.  Nearly  70,000 
persons  died  of  it. 

16.  The  great  fire  in  London  took  place  in  the  year  1666.  It  de- 
stroyed 14,000  houses,  and  89  churches. 

17.  King  Charles  the  First  was  beheaded  on  January  30th,  1649,  in 
the  49th  year  of  his  age. 

18.  Astronomy  and  geography  were  first  introduced  into  Europe  by 
the  Moors,  in  1220.  Bartholomew  Columbus  introduced  the  first 
geographical  maps  into  Europe  in  the  year  1487.  In  1489,  he  printed 
and  dedicated  to  Henry  the  Seventh  a  map  of  the  world. 

19.  The  Gunpowder  Plot  was  discovered  on  the  5th  of  November,  1605. 

20.  The  mariner's  compass  is  by  some  supposed  to  have  been  dis- 
covered by  Flavio  De  Melfi  in  the  year  1302,  though  some  say  that  it 
was  brought  from  China  by  Marco  Paola,  a  Venetian,  in' 1260. 

Answered  by  L.  M.  and  C.  M.  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


V^-Vi--^ 


POMPEYS    PILLAR. 


POMPETS   PILLAE. 


151 


POMPEY'S  PILLAR. 


^-'^ffe 


*^^ 


,  --^B^J^MiD  the  genenil  ruin  v.hich  ancient  Alexandria  pre- 
;,(  sents,  several  objects  still  remain  in  a  measure  en- 
^  _^r,  tire,  and  are  Avell  deserving  attention.  Pompey's 
Pillar  is  one  of  these  objects.  It  is  situated  about  a 
^s^  mile  from  the  southern  gate  of  Alexandria.  The  name  by 
^^  which  it  is  called,  as  is  pretty  generally  conceded  now,  has 
been  given  to  it  in  modern  times.  Opinions  have  differed  much 
as  to  the  date  of  its  erection,  and  as  to  whose  memory  it  was 
raised.  Tlie  notion  which  has  become  so  current  on  account  of  its 
common  name,  namely,  that  it  was  erected  by  CcCsai-  to  commem- 
orate his  victory  over  Pompey,  though  it  has  had  respectable  sup- 
porters, is  very  generally  given  up.  Some  wiiters  have  supposed 
the  column  to  be  the  remains  of  a  magnificent  building,  of  which 
they  trace  the  ruins  near  by.  It  has  sometimes,  too,  been  thought 
to  commemorate  the  favors  which  Adrian  extended  to  this  city, 
and  still  more  frequently,  similar  favors  extended  by  Severus. 
What  an  uncertain  thing  is  fame  !  Here  is  a  huge  column,  which 
is  the  wonder  of  the  world,  and  erected  by  some  great  potentate  to 
glorify  himself,  and  yet  nobody  in  the  world  knows  who  that  great 
potentate  was,  or  when  he  lived.  The  more  rational  theory  re- 
specting the  origin  of  Pompey's  Pillar  seems  to  me  to  be  that 
which  ascribes  it  to  the  time  of  Diocletian.  A  Greek  inscription 
was  discovered  upon  it  in  the  time  of  Sir  Ralph  Abercrombie,  which 
dedicates  it  to  the  Emperor  Diocletian,  under  the  government  of 
the  Prefect  Pontius,  though  that  inscription  may  have  been  placed 
upon  it  at  a  time  subsequent  to  its  erection. 

The  column  is  of  granite.  It  belongs  to  the  Corinthian  order, 
and,  according  to  the  best  authorities,  measures  sixty-four  feet  in 
the  shaft,  about  five  in  the  base,  ten  in  the  pedestal,  and  from  ten 
to  twelve  iu  the  capital — something  over  ninety  feet  in  all.    Stand- 


152  pompey's  pillar. 


ing  in  a  plain,  as  it  does,  with  few  objects  around  it  which  can  serve 
as  comparisons  in  respect  to  its  size,  it  has  always  appeared  to  trav- 
elers much  higher  than  it  is.  You  see  it  is  by  no  means  remark-^ 
able  as  to  its  height.  The  column  of  Trajan,  in  the  Forum  Tra- 
jani  at  Rome,  is  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  feet  in  height,  and  the 
monument  in  London,  which  was  erected  to  commemorate  the  great 
lire  of  1666,  is  two  hundred  and  two  feet  high. 

Some  years  since,  a  party  of  British  sailors,  being  ashore  at 
Alexandria,  determined  they  would  climb  to  the  top  of  Pompey's 
Pillar,  and  unfurl  their  country's  flag  there.  It  was  rather  a  bold 
undertaking ;  but  tars  are  brave  fellows  the  world  over.  On  ar- 
riving at  the  spot,  many  contrivances  for  ascending  the  shaft  were 
tried,  but  without  eflfect,  and  the  British  tars  began  to  despair  of 
success,  when  the  oflicer  who  had  planned  the  frolic  suggested  the 
means  of  accomplishing  it  by  a  paper  kite,  for  which  one  of  the 
men  was  despatched  to  the  city.  The  inhabitants  were  by  this  time 
apprized  of  what  was  going  forward,  and  flocked  in  crowds  to 
witness  the  exploit.  The  governor  of  Alexandria  was  told  that 
the  English  seamen  were  about  to  pull  down  Pompey's  Pillar. 
But  he  would  not  interfere,  saying,  the  English  were  too  great  pa- 
triots to  injure  such  a  monument  as  this.  The  kite  was  brought 
and  flown  directly  over  the  pillar,  by  which  means  a  cord  was  car- 
ried over  the  capital.  This  accomplished,  a  rope  was  then  drawn 
over,  and  one  of  the  seamen  ascended  by  it  to  the  top,  where  being 
arrived,  other  ropes  were  handed  to  him  by  the  same  conveyance, 
and  in  little  more  than  an  hour  a  regular  set  of  shrouds  was  erected, 
by  which  the  whole  company  went  up,  and  unfurled  the  British 
flag  amid  the  shouts  of  several  thousand  people  collected  to  see 
Avhat  they  termed  a  miracle,  as  no  one  had  befoie  been  known  to 
have  seen  the  top  of  that  stupendous  edifice,  which  overtops  the 
highest  buildings  of  the  city.  To  the  eye  below,  the  capital  does 
not  appear  capable  of  holding  more  than  one  man  ;  but  these  sea- 
men found  it  would  contain  no  less  than  eight  persons  very  conve- 
niently. They  also  discovered,  what  before  was  unknown,  that  there 
was  originally  a  statue  on  this  pillar,  of  gigantic  size,  of  which  the 
foot  and  ancle  are  the  only  parts  now  remaining.  The  only  injury 
the  pillar  sustained  was  the  loss  of  one  of  its  top  stones,  which  fell 


VEGETABLE  INSTINCT.  153 

down  and  was  brought  to  England  by  one  of  the  company.  The 
sailors,  after  painting  their  names  in  large  letters,  just  beneath  the 
capital,  descended,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  tlie  Turks,  who  to 
this  day  speak  of  it  as  the  madcap  enterprise. 


VEGETABLE  INSTINCT. 

IF  a  pan  of  water  be  placed  within  six  inches  of  the  stem  of  a 
young  pumpkin  or  vegetable  marrow,  it  will,  in  the  course  of 
the  night,  approach  it,  and  will  be  found  in  the  morning  with  one 
of  its  leaves  on  the  water.  This  experiment  may  be  continued 
nightly  until  the  plant  begins  to  fruit. 

If  a  prop  be  placed  within  six  inches  of  a  young  convolvulus,  or 
scarlet-runner,  it  will  find  it,  although  the  prop  be  shifted  daily. 
If,  after  it  has  twined  some  distance  up  the  prop,  it  be  unwound, 
and  twined  in  the  opposite  direction,  it  will  return  to  its  original 
position,  or  die  in  the  attempt ;  yet,  notwithstanding,  if  two  of  these 
plants  grow  near  each  other,  and  have  no  stake  around  which  they 
can  entwine,  one  of  them  will  alter  the  direction  of  its  spiral,  and 
they  will  entwine  around  each  other. 

Duhamal  placed  some  kidney-beans  in  a  cylinder  of  moist  earth  ; 
after  a  short  time  they  began  to  germinate,  of  coui'se  sending  the 
plume  upwards  to  the  light,  and  the  root  down  into  the  soil. 
After  a  few  days,  the  cylinder  was  turned  one-fourth  round,  and 
again  and  again  this  was  repeated,  until  an  entire  revolution  of  the 
cylinder  had  been  completed.  The  beans  were  then  taken  out  of 
the  earth,  and  it  was  found  that  both  the  plume  and  radicle  had 
bent  to  accommodate  themselves  to  every  revolution,  and  the  one 
in  its  effort  to  ascend  perpendicularly,  and  tlie  other  to  descend,  had 
formed  a  perfect  spiral.  But  although  the  natural  tendency  of  the 
roots  is  downward,  if  the  soil  beneath  be  dry,  and  damp  substances 
be  above,  the  roots  will  ascend  to  reach  it. 

Other  instances  could  be  advanced  to  show  the  wonderful  in- 
stinct of  vegetables,  but  probably  the  above  are  sufficient  to  awaken 
a  spirit  of  inquiry  among  our  young  friends. 

VOL.  V.  7*  AP 


154 


THE   ITALIAN  LAKES. 


^ifMBm 


THE  ITALIAN  LAKES. 

ALTHOUGH  the  lakes  of  Italy  cannot  vie  with  their  sisters  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  Alps,  theie  are  several  that  are  ex- 
ceedingly beautiful.  Those  which  most  delighted  me,  while  trav- 
eling in  Italy,  were  Lakes  Como,  Lugano,  and  Maggiore.  Having 
completed  my  visit  at  Milan,  and  being  nearly  ready  to  cross  the 
Alps  into  Switzerland,  instead  of  taking  the  diligence  directly  to 
the  pass  of  the  Simplon,  I  occupied  some  two  days'  more  time  by 
making  a  detour,  to  visit  these  lakes.  I  was  accompanied  in  this 
excursion  by  my  two  American  friends  and  a  dean  in  one  of  the 
colleges  at  Oxford.  The  latter  was  a  great  admirer  of  lake  scenery. 
Indeed,  he  was  almost  a  monomaniac  on  this  subject.  I  traveled 
in  company  with  him  a  good  many  miles,  first  and  last,  and  I 


THE   ITALIAN   LAKES.  155 

always  found  liim  somewliat  in  the  predicament  of  the  magnet  in 
the  presence  of  a  huge  bar  of  iron — inclined  to  vary  from  the  pole 
whenever  there  was  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  lake  within  a  mile 
or  two.  In  this  respect,  my  clerical  English  companion  was  by  no 
means  alone.  I  found  the  lake  fever  a  much  more  common  one 
among  Englishmen,  wherever  I  went  with  them  on  the  continent, 
than  among  my  own  countrymen.  The  fact  is  easily  accounted 
for.  It  is  a  rare  thing  to  see  a  fine  lake  in  England,  while  in 
America  the  country  abounds  with  them. 

There  is  a  railway  from  Milan  to  Como  ;  and  wishin2:  to  sfet 
over  the  ground,  at  this  point  in  my  journey,  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible, I  took  this  mode  of  conveyance.  We  arrived  at  Como  just 
as  the  sun  was  setting,  and  lending  all  his  power  in  coloring  the 
charming  scenery  of  the  lake.  Como  is  an  old  town.  Its  cathe- 
dral is  one  of  the  most  noted  in  this  part  of  Italy.  It  was  begun 
in  1396.  Among  the  interesting  objects  it  contains,  are  the  statues 
of  the  iwo  Plinys,  both  of  whom  were  born  in  Como. 

Our  party,  after  some  refreshment,  enjoyed  a  fine  row  on  the 
lake,  by  moonlight.  The  scenery  on  this  end  of  the  lake  is  hardly 
equal  in  beauty  to  some  farther  northward.  }3ut  our  first  in- 
troduction to  Lake  Como,  while  the  twilight  was  fading  into  moon- 
light, was  a  most  happy  one.  The  Como  people  tell  us  of  an  enor- 
mous species  of  fish  living  in  this  lake,  who  have  wit  enough 
always  to  keep  near  the  bottom,  so  that  they  are  never  caught  and 
seldom  discovered.  They  call  the  fish  the  augong,  and  say  that  he 
is  larger  than  a  man,  and  a  great  glutton,  devouring  scores  of  the 
smaller  fry  at  a  single  dinner.  How  much  truth  there  is  in  these 
stories,  I  could  not  find  out.  My  ears  are  always  wide  open  when 
there  is  anything  of  a  marvelous  nature  to  be  told.  I  imbibe 
strange  and  wonderful  tales  and  legends  as  a  sponge  takes  in 
water.  I  am  in  the  habit  of  hoarding  such  things  up  carefully, 
setting  a  great  store  by  them,  whether  I  succeed  in  believing  them 
or  not,  just  as  a  miser  amasses  gold  and  silver,  which  can  be  of  no 
possible  use  to  him,  just  for  the  sake  of  possessing  it.  I  half  be- 
lieved the  fish  story,  though  I  could  not  get  a  sight  at  the  fish. 
Our  boatman,  however  had  seen  one— so  he  said— that  was  some 
comfort. 


156  THE   ITALIAJT   LAKES. 

They  tell  another  tough  story,  too,  in  these  parts,  about  a  certain 
land  animal.  They  say  that  in  the  hills  above  the  lake,  a  huge 
lizard  resides,  which  is  six  feet  in  length — quite  a  respectable  alli- 
gator. This  chap,  according  to  the  accounts  of  the  people  living  in 
these  elevated  regions,  makes  sad  havoc  with  smaller  animals  when 
they  happen  to  M\  in  his  way,  and  when  he  happens  to  be  hungry. 
I  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  reputed  haunts  of  this  saurian  monster  ; 
but  he  did  not  show  himself.  Apropos  of  this  ^^ilgnmage.  It  was 
one  of  the  pleasantest  imaginable.  The  next  morning  after  our 
arrival  in  Como,  I  rose  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  while  my  com- 
panions and  most  of  the  citizens  were  still  in  dream-land,  and 
walked  out  alone.  I  went  first  to  the  cathedral.  As  early  as  it 
was,  several  men  and  women,  mostly  country  people  who  had  come 
to  the  city  with  vegetables  for  sale,  as  appeared  by  their  baskets  in 
the  vestibule,  were  performing  their  devotions.  After  stopping  a 
few  moments  to  examine  this  beautiful  edifice,  which  contains  some 
very  fine  pictures,  I  took  one  of  the  lanes  leading  up  the  hill-side, 
and  began  to  climb  the  eminence.  I  soon  found  myself  in  a  gen- 
tleman's vineyard.  But  not  wishing  to  relinquish  my  scheme  of 
seeing  the  lake  and  its  surrounding  scenery  from  the  summit  of 
this  hill,  I  went  on.  The  slope  I  was  ascending  was  terraced  to 
the  very  top,  and  the  vines  which  covered  it  were  cultivated  on 
these  several  terraces.  I  generally  made  it  a  rule,  while  traveling 
in  Europe,  when  I  found  myself  in  a  somewhat  ambiguous  posi- 
tion, as  in  this  instance,  to  push  on,  until  I  came  to  an  obstacle  that 
I  could  not  get  over,  or  received  a  rebuft'  from  some  person  in 
authority,  in  either  of  which  cases  I  usually  accompHshed  a  digni- 
fied retreat.  So  I  went  on,  until  I  encountered  a  man  who  seemed 
to  be  the  inajo)'  domo.  Instead  of  expressing  surprise  or  displeas- 
ure at  seeing  me  there,  he  bade  me  "  good  morning"  in  that  cor- 
dial manner  which  is  so  natural  to  an  Italian,  seeming  to  regard 
my  presence  in  his  territories  as  quite  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
things.  I  told  him  my  errand.  He  seemed  delighted  that  I  was 
taking  so  much  pains  for  such  an  object,  and  cordially  pointed  out 
the  best  way  to  reach  the  top  of  the  mountain.  It  was  a  long  way 
to  the  summit.  I  had  not  reckoned  upon  half  the  labor  that  the 
climbing  actually  cost  me.     But  my  toil  was  richly   rewarded. 


THE   ITALIAN  LAKES.  157 


Seating  myself  on  one  of  those  vine-covered  terraces,  I  enjoyed  a 
prospect  which,  next  to  that  from  Mount  Vesuvius,  is  imprinted 
with  more  vividness  upon  my  memory  than  any  other  in  Italy. 
The  town  of  Como,  nestled  down  among  the  liills,  was  in  the  fore- 
ground. Then  I  had  a  view  of  the  lake,  from  the  surface  of  which 
I  could  see  pictured  a  great  portion  of  the  foliage  on  its  banks  ; 
with  the  wild  and  picturesque  hills  on  the  other  side  for  a  back- 
ground. 

The  hum  of  the  city,  just  awaking  from  sleep,  was  wafted  up  this 
summit,  in  the  stillness,  with  astonishing  distinctness.  I  could  hear 
the  plashing  of  the  oars  of  the  boatmen  on  the  lake.  Innumerable 
birds,  many  of  which  were  strangers  to  me,  were  commencing  their 
morning  concert,  and  their  music  fell  upon  my  ear  so  sweetly  and 
tenderly,  tliat  I  blessed  them  from  my  very  heart. 

But  my  enjoyment  in  this  retreat  was  of  short  duration,  and  I 
hurried  down  to  be  in  season  for  breakfast  at  my  inn — the  Hotel 
Angela.  And,  now  I  have  named  this  hotel,  let  me  say  a  good 
word  for  it.  It  is  one  of  the  very  best  in  Italy.  The  table  is  well 
provided  too ;  the  rooms  are  pleasant  and  airy  ;  and  the  beds  are 
clean,  which  is  saying  a  great  deal  for  an  Italian  inn.  There  is 
an  air  of  great  comfort  about  the  whole  establishment ;  and  every 
employe  in  it  seems  disposed  to  add  as  much  as  possible  to  the 
general  stock  of  happiness.  Even  the  fleas  seem  to  have  caught 
somewhat  of  the  spirit  of  courtesy  that  prevail  in  the  house. 
They  are  far  more  advanced  in  civilization  than  their  Roman 
and  Neapolitan  cousins.  I  may  be  mistaken  ;  but  I  looked  upon 
them  as  peculiarly  tender-hearted  and  conscientious.  When  they 
invaded  our  sanctuary,  and  made  their  accustomed  drafts,  I  thought 
they  d-id  it  tearfully,  and,  as  it  were,  under  protest.  AVe  were 
treated  to  some  fish  from  the  lake,  which  were  most  delicious.  The 
variety  was  entirely  new  to  me.    It  is  called  agone  by  the  inhabitants. 

At  half-past  eight  in  the  morning,  we  took  the  little  steamer 
Adda,  for  a  trip  up  the  lake.  It  would  have  amused  you  to  have 
heard  the  difi'erent  dialects  employed  among  our  passengers.  Hero 
■was  a  group  of  Italians,  chatting  away,  in  their  silvery  tones,  with 
such  earnestness,  that  you  would  think  they  were  angry  with  eacli 
other.     A  few  paces  from  them  were  some  Austrian?,  expressing 


158  THE   ITALIAN   LAKES. 

their  admiration  in  a  much  harsher  language.  There  were  groups 
of  Frenchmen,  too,  chatting  as  fast  as  a  horse  could  trot,  and  laugh- 
ing up  to  their  very  foreheads,  while  on  the  other  side  of  the 
steamer,  a  party  of  English  gentlemen  and  ladies,  more  sober  and 
sedate  in  their  enthusiasm,  were  contriving  how  they  might  take 
the  most  possible  comfort,  ever  and  anon  declaring  that  the  lake 
was  "  most  extraordinary."  There  were  two  or  three  Dutchmen 
on  board,  who  talked  very  sensibly,  no  doubt,  but  with  an  express- 
ion as  if  their  mouths  were  full  of  hot  maccaroni  ;  and  besides, 
there  were  specimens  of  genuine,  whittling,  calculating  Yankees. 

The  boat  was  guided  by  a  wheel  running  horizontally,  and  the 
pilot  performed  his  task  sitting  down,  leaning  his  head  on  his  arm, 
and  turning  the  wheel  with  the  other.  I  cannot  say  much  for  the 
scenery  for  some  miles.  As  we  came  in  sight  of  Bellagio,  how- 
ever, it  becomes  more  picturesque.  The  town  of  Como,  it  should 
be  recollected,  is  situated  at  the  southern  extremity  of  one  of  the 
arms  of  the  lake.  We  ascend  the  south-western  arm.  The  eastern 
shore  abounds  in  villages  and  little  white  villas,  the  latter  said  to 
be  mostly  the  summer  residences  of  the  Milanese  nobility.  We 
passed  a  place  called  Nesso,  near  which  a  fine  cascade  dashes  down 
the  hill-side.  This  spot  is  memorable,  as  it  is  supposed  to  be  the 
site  of  Plinifs  villa,  which  ho  called  Trar/ccdia,  on  account  of  its 
wild  and  romantic  situation.  This  opinion  is  confirmed  by  the 
discovery  of  broken  columns  in  the  lake.  Madame  Pasta,  the  great 
vocalist,  and  Taglioni,  the  dancer,  had  also  villas  on  this  shore. 

Como  has  been  pronounced  the  most  attractive,  on  the  whole, 
of  the  three  lakes.  Indeed,  travelers  generally  regard  it  as  the 
most  charming  inland  sheet  of  water  in  Italy.  It  may  be  so ;  but 
that  portion  of  it  which  I  saw — univei-sally  called  the  finest — seemed 
to  me  to  be  surpassed  by  the  scenery  of  Lugano.  There  were  few 
or  no  clifts,  on  either  shore,  so  bold  as  I  had  expected  to  see.  In 
this  respect,  many  of  the  Swiss  lakes  greatly  excel  it ;  and  I  am  not 
sure  but  the  scenery  of  Lake  George  and  the  Highlands  of  the  Hud- 
son is  equal  to  it.  One  of  the  chief  charms  of  an  excursion  on 
this  lake  are  the  pretty  dwellings  nestled  down  among  the  trees  on 
the  shores.  They  have  such  an  air  of  cosiness  and  comfort  about 
them,  that  one  falls  in  love  \vith  them  at  first  sight. 


THE   ITALIAN  LAKES.  159 

We  left  the  steamer — or  the  steamer  left  us,  whicliever  you 
please — when  we  reached  Menaggio,  situated  about  half  the  dis- 
tance from  Como  to  the  northern  end  of  tlie  lake.  Here  we  hired 
a  carriage — a  particularly  poor  one,  was  all  we  could  obtain — and 
proceeded  across  a  very  rough  and  ragged  country,  quite  barren  of 
interest,  to  Porlezza,  on  Lake  Lugano.  It  rained  furiously  for  the 
last  half  hour  of  our  ride,  and  our  party  presented  the  appearance, 
in  some  respects,  of  drowned  rats.  Porlezza  is  a  little  village  of 
poverty-stricken  huts,  the  inmates  of  which  live  mostly  by  fishing. 
When  there  are  no  travelers  to  be  attended  to,  and  the  natives 
are  in  danger  of  starvation,  they  try  their  luck  in  the  lake.  But 
no  sooner  does  a  party  of  visitors  come  over  from  Lake  Como, 
than  they  withdraw  their  hooks  from  the  water,  and  use  all  the 
arts  they  are  master  of  to  catch  the  men.  We  found  a  score  of 
boats  on  the  beach,  and  twice  that  number  of  boatmen.  The 
boats  were  all  flat-bottomed,  and  very  wide  in  proportion  to  their 
length.  I  am  not  able  to  rank  them  under  any  genus  of  boats 
with  which  I  am  familiar ;  but  I  may  say  this  :  that  they  resem- 
bled the  mud  scow  of  Xew  England  much  more  than  the  gondola 
of  Venice.  We  indulged  in  some  hearty  strains  of  laughter  over 
these  "  pleasure  boats  ;"  but  we  found  out,  before  we  reached  the 
opposite  shore,  that  the  lake  was  somewhat  treacherous,  and  very 
liable  to  sudden  gusts  of  wind,  abundantly  capable  of  swamping 
such  graceful  boats  as  we  had  expected  to  see.  Selecting  one  of 
these  boats,  and  shipping  three  oarsmen,  we  embarked  for  Lugano, 
on  the  opposite  shore.  The  banks  of  Lake  Lugano  are,  for  the 
most  part,  more  picturesque  than  those  of  Como.  There  is  an  air 
of  wildness  about  it  which  compares  favorably  with  some  of  the 
most  celebrated  of  the  Swiss  lakes.  The  blufts  are  some  of  them 
of  great  height,  and  well  nigh  perpendicular.  I  wonder  that  the 
praises  of  Lugano  have  not  been  more  general.  The  shape  of  this 
sheet  of  water  is  singularly  irregular  and  indescribable.  It  is 
something  like  a  very  uncouth  and  rustic  capital  H,  with  about  as 
many  arms  and  claws  as  would  suffice  for  a  crab  or  a  lobster. 
One  of  these  arms  stretches  towards  Mennagio,  on  Lake  Como,  and 
it  was  on  this  arm  that  our  acquaintance  with  this  lake  commenced. 
The  greatest  length  of  the  lake  is  sixteen  miles  ;  its  average  breadth 


160  THE  ITALIAN  LAKES. 

two  miles.  Mount  Salvadore  occupies  a  very  conspicuous  place  in 
the  beautiful  landscape  presented  to  the  eye  from  the  lake.  It 
stands  on  a  promontory,  washed  on  two  sides  by  the  waters  of  con- 
tiguous arms  of  the  lake.  As  we  approach  the  pretty  little  village 
of  Lugano,  the  shores  grow  less  wild  and  rugged.  Traces  of  cul- 
tivation appear.  As  we  advance,  we  see  beautiful  white  villas,  and 
churches,  pleasantly  situated  in  the  midst  of  vines,  fig-trees,  and 
walnut  groves.  It  requires  upwards  of  three  hours  to  row^  from 
Foiiezza  to  Lugano.  Wc  cross  the  Austrian  frontier  on  this  route. 
In  all  my  experience  of  the  operation  of  the  passport  system,  I 
never  elsewhere  saw  it  in  such  a  ludicrous  light  as  at  a  miserable 
little  place  on  this  lake,  where  we  were  obliged  to  go  ashore  and 
submit  our  passports  to  the  inspection  of  an  Austrian  official  there 
stationed.  lie  was  a  great,  fat,  greasy -looking  fellow,  who  could 
not  have  weighed  less  than  two  hundred  pounds  ;  and  such  an  os- 
tentatious display  of  wisdom  as  he  made  over  our  passports,  I 
think  I  never  saw  before  in  my  life.  I  wish  my  friend  Ross  Brown, 
who  has  made  such  good  use  of  his  pencil  in  the  pictures  which 
appear  in  Yusef,  had  been  in  our  company.  If  he  had  been  with 
us,  that  great  Austrian  reservoir  of  learning  and  profundity  would 
certainly  have  been  transmitted  to  posterity.  He  found  a  great 
many  flaws  in  the  vises  of  all  the  passports.  Ever  so  many  things 
needed  explanation.  I  don't  believe  that  King  John  looked  over 
the  famous  Magna  Charta  with  more  solemnity  than  this  gentle- 
man did  each  individual  passport,  and  I  am  sure  he  never  could 
have  got  up  so  much  dignity  on  the  occasion.  The  farce  was  en- 
tertaining enough  at  first ;  but  it  got  to  be  tedious  after  a  little  while, 
and  we  cut  it  short  by  slipping  into  the  fingers  of  the  august  actor 
two  or  three  zwanzigers — an  Austrian  coin  the  value  of  which  I 
never  could  find  out — when  the  difficulties  seemed  suddenly  to  disap- 
pear, the  passports  were  signed,  we  were  dismissed  with  great  civility, 
and  were  at  once  en  route  again.  This  ceremony  of  examining  pass- 
ports is  performed  twice  on  the  way  between  Porlezza  and  Lugano. 
The  village  of  Lugano  is  extremely  well  situated.  I  would 
gladly  have  spent  a  week  here,  had  the  time  been  at  my  command. 
The  hotel  where  we  stopped  and  were  entertained  to  our  entire 
satisfaction,  was  the  Hotel  de  Lago.     Here  we  spent  the  night. 


THE   ITALIAN'  LAKES.  161 

The  next  morning,  at  a  very  early  hour,  long  enough  before  any 
breakfast  could  be  had,  we  started  in  a  vettura  for  Luino,  on  Lake 
Maggiore.  The  route  is  extremely  hilly,  but  not  unpleasant.  It 
was  seven  o'clock  when  we  reached  Luino,  a  little  village,  the 
principal  attraction  of  which,  to  us,  consisted  in  its  providing  for 
us  a  good  breakfast. 

A  little  steamer  touches  at  this  place  in  the  morning,  on  its  way 
to  Sesto  Callende,  on  the  southern  end  of  the  lake,  from  which 
place  there  is  a  foot  road  to  Milan.  Soon  after  we  had  swept  the 
table  of  everything  edible  upon  it,  this  steamer  arrived,  and  we 
started  for  Baveno.  The  character  of  the  scenery  on  this  lake  is 
almost  entirely  unlike  that  of  either  Como  or  Lugano.  On  its 
shores  there  is  a  much  greater  proportion  of  cultivated  land.  Here, 
growing  luxuriantly  and  abundantly,  are  the  \Tne,  fig,  olive,  pome- 
granate, and  myrtle.  The  farmers,  such  is  the  abruptness  of  the 
slopes,  are  for  the  most  part  obliged  to  resort  to  terraces. 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  when  we  arrived  at  Baveno.  The  only 
inn  in  the  place  is  La  Posta.  It  affords  the  traveler  a  capital  op- 
portunity to  make  himself  familiar  with  a  fare  as  miserable  as  he 
can  possibly  desire,  and  to  relieve  himself  therefor  of  the  burden 
of  a  whole  handful  of  zwanzigers. 

The  great  attractions  of  Lake  Maggiore  are  the  Borromean  Is- 
lands. They  are  most  conveniently  visited  from  Baveno,  and  we 
lost  no  time  in  j^rocuring  a  boat  for  the  excursion.  The  Isola 
Bella  is  the  most  noted  of  these  islands.  One  seems  transported 
to  fairy  land,  the  moment  he  sets  his  foot  upon  its  shore.  There 
is  upon  it  a  splendid  palace,  owned  by  the  Count  Borromeo,  con- 
nected with  wiiich  are  gardens,  somewhat  after  the  model  of  the 
world-renowned  hanging  gardens  of  Babylon.  An  ancestor  of  this 
family,  in  the  year  1671,  converted  this  island,  then  a  mass  of  bar- 
ren slate  rock  rising  only  a  few  feet  from  the  surface  of  the  water, 
into  this  miniature  paradise.  This  was  done,  at  great  expense,  by 
forming  terraces,  some  ten  or  twelve  in  number,  the  lowest  placed 
on  piers  thrown  into  the  lake.  The  soil  used  in  forming  these  ter- 
races was  all  brought  from  the  main  land.  Here  may  be  found  not 
only  the  plants  of  this  latitude,  but  multitudes  of  exotics  from 
tropical  regions,  all  flourishing  iu  the  open  air.     I   noticed  the 


162  FORGIYE  AND   FORGET. 

orange,  citron,  myrtle,  cactus,  aloes,  camphor  tree,  sugar  cane,  coffee 
plant,  and  a  host  of  others  indigenous  to  countries  situated  near  the 
equator.  In  the  palace,  they  showed  us  a  great  many  curiosities, 
among  which  was  paraded  the  bed  on  which  Napoleon  slept  the 
night  before  the  battle  of  Marengo,  They  also  attempted  to  show, 
outside  the  palace,  another  Napoleonic  relic,  in  the  shape  of  the 
word  Battaglia^  (the  Italian  for  battle,)  which  he  cut  with  his  pen- 
knife on  the  bark  of  a  venerable  bay  tree  on  the  day  of  the  battle 
of  Marengo.  One  letter  only  of  this  word  remained.  Isola  Bella 
is  well  worth  visiting,  though  one  must  not  be  surprised  if  his 
curiosity,  rather  than  his  taste,  is  gratified  by  the  visit. 

Speaking  of  taste,  on  our  return  to  the  Hotel  de  la  Posta,  at 
Baveno,  dinner  was  announced — and  such  a  dinner  !  it  beggared 
all  deecription  ;  and  when  we  came  to  pay  for  it,  it  almost  beggared 
us,  too. 


FORGIVE  AND  FORGET. 

Angry  looks  can  do  no  good, 

And  blows  are  dealt  in  blindness; 

"Words  are  better  understood, 
If  spoken  but  in  kindness. 

Simple  love  far  more  hath  wrought. 
Although  by  childhood  muttered, 

Than  all  the  battles  ever  fought, 
Or  oaths  that  men  have  uttered. 

Friendship  oft  would  longer  last. 
And  quarrels  be  prevented, 

If  little  words  were  let  go  past — 
Forgiven,  not  resented. 

Foolish  things  are  frowns  and  sneers, 
For  angry  thoughts  reveal  them  ; 

Rather  drown  them  all  in  tears, 
Than  let  another  feel  them. 


THE  DISCONTEN'TED   HOESE. 


163 


FABLE-    FROM    THE    GERMAN    OF    LESSINQ. 


As  Jupiter  once  was  receiving  petitions 

From  birds  and  from  beasts  of  all  ranks  and  conditions — 

I  quote  from  a  lieathenish  work,  as  you  see, 

To  pick  out  a  moral  for  you  and  for  me — 

The  horse  went  as  near  as  he  dared  to  the  throne, 

And  thus  made  his  donkey-like  sentiments  known  : 

"  For  beauty  of  symmetry,  fleetness  and  force, 

'Tis  said  that  all  animals  yield  to  the  horse. 

While  my  spirit  I  feel,  and  my  figure  I  view 

In  the  brook,  Vm  inclined  to  believe  it  is  true; 

But  still,  mighty  Jupiter,  still  by  your  aid, 

In  my  form  might  some  farther  improvements  be  made. 

To  run  is  my  duty,  and  swifter  and  stronger 

I  surely  should  go,  were  my  legs  to  be  longer; 


164  WISE  MAXIMS. 


And  as  man  always  places  a  seat  on  my  back, 

I  ought  to  be  made  with  a  saddle  or  sack. 

It  would  save  him  much  trouble,  on  journeys  departing-. 

And  I  would  be  constantly  ready  for  starting." 

Great  Jupiter  smiled — for  he  laughed  at  the  brute, 

As  he  saw  more  of  folly  than  of  vice  in  his  suit — 

And  striking  the  earth,  with  wonderful  force, 

A  camel  rose  up  near  the  terrified  horse. 

He  trembled — he  started — his  mane  shook  with  fright. 

And  he  staggered  half  round,  as  preparing  for  flight, 

"  Behold !"  exclaimed  Jove,  "  there  an  animal  stands, 

"With  both  your  improvements  at  once  to  your  hands. 

His  legs  are  much  longer ;  the  hump  on  his  back 

Well  answers  the  purpose  of  saddle  or  sack. 

Of  the  two,  silly  horse,  which  shape  will  you  take, 

A  horse  or  a  camel  ?     The  choice  you  may  make." 

The  horse  looked  abashed,  and  had  nothing  to  say; 

And  Jove,  with  reproaches,  thus  sent  him  away  : 

''  Begone,  till  you  gratefully  feel  and  express 

Your  thanks  for  the  blessings  and  gifts  you  possess. 

The  camel,  though  plain,  is  useful  and  good; 

You're  handsome,  but  proud,  discontented  and  rude." 


WISE  MAXIMS. 


The  following  rules  for  self-government  were  adopted  by  a  dis- 
tinguished American  clergyman  now  no  more  on  earth.  Were 
they  generally  observed,  they  would  revolutionize  the  whole  social 
community.  Ten  thousand  sources  of  bitterness  and  controversy 
would  be  dried  up,  and  peace  and  good  will  take  the  place  of  envy, 
ambition  and  strife  :  "  Let  me  have  the  following  maxims  always 
in  mind,  for  the  regulation  of  my  conduct :  Never  to  praise  myself, 
and  never  to  speak  evil  of,  or  detract  from  any  other  individual. 
Better  not  to  speak  at  all,  than  to  speak  to  slander  and  calumniate. 
Resolve,  never  to  use  such  language  of  any  person,  as  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  use  iu  his  presence." 


THE   GRUMBLE   FAMILY. 


165 


THE  GRUMBLE  FAMILY. 


Vhat  a  number  of  members  there  are  belonginjr  to 
^illj  the  Grumble  femilv.  One  meets  with  them 
,<^  almost  every  day  of  his  life.  They  seem  to  be 
scattered  all  over  the  world,  though  they  have  such  a 
striking  family  resemblance,  that  you  can  tell  one  in  an 
instant  wherever  you  encounter  him.  It  has  sometimes 
seemed  to  me  that  the  Grumble  family  have  an  especial 
passion  for  traveling,  inasmuch  as  we  so  often  meet  with  them  in 
hotels,  steamboats,  and  railway  cars.  I  never  go  away  from  home, 
as  far  as  Boston,  or  Albany,  or  Philadelphia,  without  coming  in 
contact  with  a  score  or  more  of  them,  who  appear  as  if  they  con- 
sidered the  great  business  of  men  and  women  consisted  in  grum- 
bling at  each  other.  I  don't  know  when  I  was  ever  more  thor- 
oughly out  of  patience  with  this  family  in  general,  and  sundry 
members  of  it  in  particular,  than  I  was  the  other  day,  while  on 
my  route  to  Philadelphia,  by  the  way  of  the  Camden  and  Amboy 
line.  By  this  route,  as  most  of  my  readers  know,  we  go  first  down 
our  beautiful  New  York  bay,  around  Staten  Island,  to  Amboy, 
where  we  take  the  cai-s  across  the  State  of  Wew  Jersey,  to  Cam- 
den, and  thence  cross  the  ferry  to  the  "  City  of  Brotherly  Love." 
It  is  one  of  the  finest  trips  imaginable.  That  part  of  it,  especially, 
which  is  by  water,  is  charming  in  the  extreme.  All  along  the  shore 
of  the  little  elbow  of  water  which  surrounds  Staten  Island,  are 
beautiful  residences,  nestled  down  amid  the  forests  and  hills  of  this 
romantic  island.  The  boat  is  fitted  up  in  the  finest  style,  for  such 
an  excursion.  It  really  seemed  to  me,  the  other  day,  while  we 
were  gliding  along  in  sight  of  so  many  attractions,  that  a  man, 
whether  traveling  on  business  or  pleasure,  could  hardly  help  enjoy- 
ing this  trip.     But  alas  !  some  of  the  Grumble  family  were  on 


166  THE   GRUMBLE   FAMILY. 

board,  hunting-  after  some  game  to  gi-iimble  at.  Tliey  never  take  a 
book,  or  magazine,  or  newspaper  along  with  them,  seeming  dis- 
posed to  keep  the  mind  as  much  as  possible  disengaged,  so  that  it 
can  the  better  keep  a  sharp  look-out  for  something  worth  grum- 
bling for.  For  a  while,  this  sort  of  game  was  unusually  scarce. 
A  few  of  the  family  near  me  in  the  saloon  had  to  content  them- 
selves with  some  little  mutterings  of  discontent  touching  the 
weather.  But  when  we  were  seated  at  the  dinner-table,  then  all 
the  representatives  of  the  family  on  board  were  in  full  cry.  The 
dinner  did  not  suit  Mr.  Grumble,  nor  Mrs.  Grumble,  nor  Master 
Grumble,  nor  Miss  Grumble.  They  did  scarcely  anything  but  pick 
flaws  in  it.  They  made  quite  a  hash  of  it  between  them.  All  of 
the  Grumblers  agreed  that  there  was  nothing  on  the  table  fit  to 
eat ;  and  all  of  them,  as  far  as  my  observation  extended,  revenged 
themselves  on  those  sinners  who  lun  the  Camden  and  Amboy 
line,  by  eating  as  much  of  the  miserable  dinner  as  they  conveniently 
could.  One  of  them  grumbled  at  the  stewed  oysters,  declaring 
they  were  "  cooked  to  death,"  at  the  same  time  that  he  emptied 
upon  his  own  plate  the  entire  contents  of  one  of  the  dishes  con- 
taining oysters,  calling  lustily,  as  he  did  so,  for  more.  For  my 
part,  although  I  have  been  called  somewhat  particular  in  regard  to 
my  cuisine,  I  got  along  very  well.  The  dinner  was  quite  good 
enough  for  me.  I  have  seen  better  dinners,  it  is  true,  where  there 
was  a  greater  variety,  and  served  up  with  greater  pretensions.  But 
I  am  sure,  if  the  whole  continent  had  been  laid  under  contribution 
to  furnish  that  table,  I  should  not  have  eaten  my  dinner  with  a 
keener  relish.  It  was  good  enough  ;  and  why  should  a  man  wish 
for  anything  better  than  that  ?  Besides,  granting  the  dinner  was 
rather  inferior,  why  can't  the  Grumble  family  see  that  grumbling 
don't  mend  the  matter  a  whit  ?  It  in  fact  makes  things  worse. 
In  this  case,  it  detracted  from  my  own  enjoyment  while  eating. 

"  Waiter !"  said  one  of  this  genus  sitting  near  me,  "  you  black 
rascal !  why  don't  you  bring  me  that  broiled  chicken  ?  I  ordered 
it  half  an  hour  ago." 

"  If  the  gentleman  will  look  before  him,"  said  the  waiter  who 
had  been  addressed  in  such  choice  language,  "  he'll  see  the  dish  I 
put  by  the  side  of  his  plate  in  a  minute  after  it  was  ordered." 


THE   GRUMBLE   FAMILY.  167 


And  so  he  had.  I  noticed  the  fact  myself.  But  Mr.  Grumble 
had  been  so  busily  at  woik  on  the  contents  of  his  already  over- 
loaded plate,  for  fear,  as  I  presumed,  that  he  was  in  danger  of  not 
getting  the  value  of  his  half  dollar,  that  he  had  not  noticed  the  ad- 
vent of  the  broiled  chicken.  No  doubt  you  charitably  suppose  that 
this  gentleman  nodded  an  apology  to  the  waiter  whom  he  had  so 
rudely  and  so  uni-easonably  addressed.  But  he  did  no  such  thing. 
He  kept  on  eating,  without  lifting  his  eyes  from  the  plate.  Your 
gentleman  gi-umbler  never  descends  so  far  from  his  lofty  vocation 
as  to  make  an  apology.  He  has  too  much  woik  on  hand  of  quite 
another  kind.  By  the  way,  this  was  the  same  Mr.  Grumble  who 
stormed — I  will  not  use  a  harsher  word,  though  I  might  do  so 
WMth  veracity — at  the  clerk,  when  he  came  to  collect  the  fare  for 
dinner.  And  what  do  you  suppose  he  stormed  for  ?  Simply  be- 
cause the  clerk  declined  taking  a  bill  which  he  believed  to  be  coun- 
terfeit. It  was  the  man's  business  to  have  bought  his  ticket  for 
dinner  at  the  captain's  office,  in  which  case  the  clerk  could  have 
compared  the  bill  with  the  descriptions  of  counterfeits  in  the  bank- 
note detector.  But  he  had  not  done  so,  and  now  ho  grumbled  be- 
cause the  note  was  not  received  in  spite  of  the  clerk's  suspicions. 

After  dinner,  Mrs.  Grumble  got  herself  into  a  perfect  fever,  be- 
cause the  chamber-maid  insisted  on  removing  two  or  three  huge 
band-boxes  from  the  saloon. 

"  But,  madam,"  said  the  servant,  mildly,  as  I  thought,  "  this  is 
the  rule  of  the  Company.  I  didn't  make  it.  My  orders  are,  not 
to  let  any  baggage  come  into  this  room,  and  I  must  obey  them." 

The  reply  to  these  remarks  was  anything  but  complimentary  to 
the  innocent  chamber-maid  or  the  directors  of  the  Camden  and 
Amboy  Company.  The  lady  finally  carried  her  point,  I  believe, 
the  girl  preferring  rather  to  make  Mrs.  Grumble's  case  an  exception 
than  to  raise  a  tornado  by  removing  the  boxes.  r>ut  who  does  not 
see  that  the  lady  was  wrong  in  the  matter  ?  The  rule  was  a  good 
one.  It  was  made  for  the  convenience  and  comfort  of  the  passen- 
gers. The  ladies'  saloon  is  not  a  baggage  room.  Why  should 
Mrs.  Grumble  exercise  her  vocation  on  this  topic  ? 

A  gentleman,  who  must  have  been  a  cousin  of  this  Mrs.  Grum- 
ble, undertook  to  advocate  this  lady's  cause. 


168  THE   GRUMBLE   FAMILY. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  I,  "  you  have  plead  pretty  well,  I  must  say, 
considering  you  are  on  the  wrong  side." 

"  Maybe,  sir,"  said  he,  slightly  otTended,  "  you  are  in  the  pay  of 
the  monopoly  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  I  replied,  "  you  guess  wide  of  the  mark  there." 

"  Then  why  do  you  stand  up  for  them  ?" 

"  Because,  in  this  matter  I  believe  they  are  right  and  this  lady 
is  v/rong." 

"  Well,  for  my  part,  I  don't  mean  to  uphold  such  a  system  as 
this  monopoly.  I  believe  it  is  a  selfish  concern,  and  I'm  not  afraid 
to  say  so." 

"I  don't  think  the  Company  are  immaculate  myself.  They 
would  be  a  wonderful  set  of  men  if  they  were.  Jiut  pray,  sir,  don't 
let  us  grumble  at  anything  they  do  for  us,  simply  because  they  do 
it,  without  stopping  to  inquire  whether  it  is  well  done  or  not.  If 
we  do,  I'm  afraid  they  will  say,  '  Theie's  no  use  trying  to  please 
travelers.  We  can't  suit  them,  when  we  do  the  best  we  possibly 
can.  They  are  perpetually  grumbling  ;  and  we  might  as  well  let 
them  grumble  to  their  hearts'  content.'  " 

It  does  seem  to  me,  sometimes,  that  the  American  public  is  es- 
pecially prolific  in  grumblers.  I  came  across  a  man,  not  long  since, 
on  my  way  from  my  country  residence  to  the  city,  who  called  the 
conductor  of  the  train  all  manner  of  hard  names,  because,  the 
day  before,  he  did  not  wait  a  minute  or  two  for  him,  but  left  him 
running  toward  the  station.  The  conductor  informed  him  that 
his  time  was  up,  and  he  had  no  authority  to  wait  a  second  for  any 
person.  Tlie  grumbler — a  well-educated  man,  who  had  seen  some- 
thing of  the  world — admitted  that  the  train  did  not  leave  the 
station  before  its  time  ;  but  railed  at  the  conductor  and  the  Hud- 
son River  Company,  because,  though  he,  Mr.  Grumbler,  had  waited 
for  them  many  and  many  a  time,  they  would  not  wait,  now  and 
then,  for  him.  What  unreasonable  people  this  Grumble  family 
are. 


A   DOLLAR   FOR   GOOD   NEWS. 


169 


A  DOLLAR  FOR  GOOD  NEWS. 


WHY  do  you  sigh  so,  dear  mother  ?"  said  a  young  ishmder  of 
some  dozen  summers,  to  his  pale,  anxious-looking  parent, 
who  sat  busily  sewing  near  him. 

"  For  the  lack  of  a  dollar,  my  child,"  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone 
which  seemed  scarcely  calm,  while  a  moment  after  a  silent  tear 
found  its  way  down  her  cheek.  Little  Alfred  watched  that  tear, 
and  pondered  upon  his  mother's  poverty,  till  he  felt  such  a  choking 
sensation  in  his  throat,  from  the  attempt  he  made  not  to  let  his 
mother  see  him  weep,  that  he  was  obliged  to  rise  and  leave  the 
room.  He  went  out,  and  sat  upon  a  large  stone  near  the  back 
door,  and  then  wept  as  if  his  young  heart  was  full  of  grief.  And 
so  it  was. 

"  Ally,  what's  the  matter  ?"  asked  a  companion,  whose  footsteps 
in  approaching  Alfred  had  not  heard.  Sobs  choked  the  jwor  boy's 
utterance.     At  last  he  spoke. 

"  Walter,"  said  he,  "  I  can  bear  to  be  the  poorest-dressed  boy  in 
school.  I  can  bear  to  go  without  pocket-money,  and  toys,  and 
books  that  the  other  boys  have,  but  I  can't  bear  to  see  my  poor 
mother  weep  because  she  is  in  need  of  a  dollar,  and  I  cannot  give 

VOL.  V.  &  AP 


170  A   DOLLAR   FOR   GOOD   NEWS. 

her  one.  If  my  father  were  only  alive,  it  would  not  be  so,  or  if  I 
were  a  man,  and  could  work.  But  now — oh,  I  can't  bear  it  1" 
And  tears  again  fell  thick  and  fast  from  his  eyes. 

Walter  strove  to  comfort  him,  but  in  vain  ;  and  as  he  was  sent 
on  an  errand,  he  soon  left  him.  Poor  Alfred  looked  up  at  the  clear, 
bright  moon,  and  the  thought  of  God,  as  the  Great  Benefactor, 
came  to  his  mind.  He  remembered  that  He  took  care  even  of  the 
birds  of  the  air ;  and  he  knelt  there  in  the  moonlight,  and  asked 
God  to  send  his  mother  some  assistance."    His  prayer  was  answered. 

Not  long  after,  Walter  rushed  hastily  to  his  side.  "  Ally,  run, 
run  to  my  mother's,  and  tell  her  the  Sylph  has  arrived,  and  get 
the  dollar.     Run,  quick  !" 

No  further  words  were  needed.  Alfred  comprehended  at  once, 
and  ran  with  all  speed  to  Walter's  home.  His  kind  young  friend 
followed  him  at  a  slower  pace  ;  for  he  was  generous  enough,  much 
as  he  had  previously  counted  on  the  privilege  of  being  first  to  tell 
the  good  news  to  his  mother,  (for  his  own  father  was  captain  of 
the  Sylph,)  to  transfer  his  privilege,  and  the  dollar  which  was  the 
invariable  reward  for  such  glad  tidings,  to  his  weeping,  praying 
playmate.  This  custom  is  a  time-honored  one  on  the  island  of 
Nantucket — and  many  a  young  heart  is  made  glad  by  the  reward 
from  those  to  whom  their  nimble  feet  have  carried  good  news. 

Alfred  received  the  dollar  and  the  thanks  of  Walter's  mother, 
but  still  happier  did  he  make  that  mother,  when  he  told  her  of 
Walter's  kindness  in  thus  denying  himself  to  serve  his  friend. 
"  Why  did  you  not  come,  my  son,"  asked  Walter's  mother,  "  and 
having  earned  the  dollar,  give  it  to  Alfred  ?" 

"  Because,  mother,  I  knew  Alfred  would  not  feel  as  well  about 
taking  it  as  if  he  had  really  earned  it  himself." 

"  You  were  right,  Walter,"  was  her  answer  ;  and  just  then  an 
owner  of  the  Sylph  came  in  to  confirm  the  tidings  to  the  captain's 
wife. 

Alfred  ran  hastily  home,  and  joyfully  deposited  his  dollar  in  his 
mother's  hand.  "  Now,"  said  she,  "  we  can  pay  all  our  rent  to- 
morrow ;  and  I  thank  God  for  such  a  son  as  you  are.  You  have 
shown  that  you  love  and  sympathize  with  me,  and  that  is  better  to 
me  than  silver  or  gold." 


THE   VOICE   OF   COXTENTMEXT. 


171 


Walter  just  then  entered,  and  advancing  to  Alfred's  mother,  said  : 
"  I  have  good  news  for  you  now,  and  I  never  told  news  for  a  dollar 
with  more  pleasure  than  I  now  tell  you  this  for  nothing.  Will  you 
promise  that  you  will  not  give  me  any  reward  ?  Alfred  has  earned 
his  dollar,  and  I  want  him  to  keep  it,  and  so  does  my  mother.  She 
would  not  have  me  come  and  tell  you  without  I  promised  to  act  as 
I  am  now  doing." 

The  promise  was  given,  and  the  good  news  imparted  that  Alfred's 
father,  who  had  been  supposed  to  have  been  lost  by  shipwreck,  was 
alive,  and  was  actually  in  the  Sylph  with  Walter's  father. 

There  was  joy  in  many  hearts  that  night,  and  two  mothers 
thanked  God  for  two  good  sons.  j.  h.  hanaford. 


THE  YOICE  OF  CONTENTMENT. 


BY    J.    P.    M-CORD. 


The  night  was  dire — the  storm  was  j  The  box  was  rude  and  filled  with 
loud,  I  straw, 

It  swept  the  naked  fields  in  wrath,  I      In  which  she  laid  their  limbs  to 
The  mighty  trees  before  it  bowed,    j  rest ; 

And  shivered  branches  strewed  its  ;  Far  richer  beds  they  often  saw 

path.  A  richer  bed  they  never  pressed. 

And  yet  she  taught  their  lips  to  bless 
The  Source  whence  every  comfort 
flows ; 

For  others  might  be  favored  less, 
Or  sufi'er  deeper  wants  and  woes. 


The  cabin,  where,  amid  the  vale, 
A  mother  braved  her  lot  severe, 

In  all  its  timbers  felt  the  gale. 
And   quivered   like   a   thing   in 
fear. 


"While  dimly  round  the  lonely  room 

A  candle  threw  its  feeble  ray. 
Her  look   and  voice  relieved   the 
gloom 
That  on  her  cowering  children 
.     lay. 


Her  darliug  boy  raised  up  his  head, 
And  sighed  to  hear  the  pelting 
storm ; 
"Ah,  what  shall   children  do,"  he 
said, 
"  "Who  have  no  straw  to  keep  them 
warm?" 


172  SIR  ISAAC   NEWTOX. 


SIR  ISAAC  NEWTON. 

THIS  is  the  name  of  one  of  the  greatest  men  Avho  ever  lived  in 
tliis  or  any  country.  In  tliinking  of  him,  we  all  ought  to  feel 
grateful  to  God  for  giving  the  world  so  noble  and  so  true  a  man. 
Though  he  lived  two  hundred  years  ago,  his  memory  is  still  cher- 
ished, and  his  name  is  held  in  the  highest  esteem  ;  and,  when  two 
hundred  more  years  shall  have  passed  away,  and  all  those  who  now 
live,  and  their  children's  children,  will  be  in  their  graves,  the  name 
of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  will  be  held  in  reverence. 

He  was  born  on  the  25th  of  December,  in  1642.  la  the  course 
of  time  little  Isaac  grew  and  got  strong,  like  other  boys,  but  he  was 
not  famed  for  his  learning  or  his  studious  habits.  He  did  not  get 
much  promotion  at  school.  He  was  very  frequently  at  the  bottom 
of  the  class.  One  day,  the  boy  who  was  above  him  gave  him  a 
severe  kick  on  his  breast,  from  which  he  suflfered  great  pain  ;  from 
this  time  Isaac  labored  to  get  above  his  assailant,  and,  by  dint  of 
hard  work,  he  succeeded.  From  the  habits  of  industry  which  this 
incident  led  him  to  form,  may  be  traced  much  of  his  future  char- 
acter and  success.     During  the  hours  of  play,  when  the  other  boys 


SIE  ISXAG  NEWTOX.  173 

were  occupied  with  their  amusements,  he  was  engaged  in  reading 
and  improving  his  mind.  He  found  his  amusement  in  books,  in 
making  scieutidc  instruments  and  experiments.  For  this  purpose 
he  provided  himself  with  little  saws,  hatchets,  hammers,  and  otlier 
sorts  of  tools,  which  he  acquired  the  art  of  using  with  singular 
cleverness.  He  made,  with  these  Httle  instruments,  a  windmill,  a 
water-clock,  and  a  carriage  which  was  put  in  motion  by  the  person 
who  sat  in  it.  He  made  an  exact  model  of  a  large  windmill, 
which  was  erected  near  Grantham,  in  Lincolnshire,  very  near  where 
he  was  born.  This  model  excited  great  attention,  and  was  very 
much  admired.  Not  content  with  an  exact  imitation  of  another 
machine,  he  made  a  new  one,  and  conceived  the  idea  of  driving  it 
by  animal  power,  and  for  this  purpose  he  enclosed  in  it  a  mouse, 
which  he  called  the  miller,  and  which,  by  acting  upon  a  sort  of 
treadmill,  gave  motion  to  the  machine.  According  to  some  ac- 
counts, the  mouse  was  made  to  advance  by  pulling  a  string  attached 
to  its  tail ;  if  so,  it  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  eruel,  and  children 
should  never  indulge  in  cruelty.  Others  state  that  the  mouse  put 
the  machine  in  motion  by  attempting  to  reach  some  corn  placed 
above  the  wheel.  This  idea  showed  great  ingenuity  on  the  part  of 
the  future  philosopher,  and  is  well  worth  alluding  to  in  this  short 
sketch. 

Isaac's  water-clock  was  formed  out  of  a  box  which  he  obtained 
from  the  brother  of  Mrs.  Clarke,  with  whom  he  boarded.  It  was 
about  four  feet  high,  and  of  a  proportional  breadth,  somewhat  like 
a  common  house-clock.  The  finger  on  the  dial-plate  was  turned 
bv  a  pie<28  of  wood,  which  either  fell  or  rose  by  the  action  of  drop- 
ping water.  The  clock  stood  in  his  own  bed-room,  and  he  supplied 
it  every  morning  with  the  requisite  quantity  of  water.  It  was  used 
by  Mra.  Clarke's  family,  and  remained  in  the  house  long  after  its 
inventor  had  quitted  Grantham. 

Isaac's  mechanical  carriage  was  a  little  gig  upon  four  wheels, 
which  was  put  in  motion  by  a  handle  moved  by  the  person  who 
sat  in  it ;  but  it  would  only  run  on  a  smooth  surface.  Very  likely 
it  was  something  like  the  carriages  we  see  sometimes  now,  which 
are  put  in  motion  by  men  sitting  in  them  ;  but  they  arc  obliged  to 
be  pushed  or  pulled  up  the  hills.     Isaac  also  amused  himself  by 


174  SIR  ISAAC   NEWTON. 

introducing  into  the  scliools  paper  kites.  He  made  paper  lanterns, 
by  the  liglit  of  which  he  went  to  school  in  the  winter  mornings; 
and  he  sometimes  attached  these  lanterns  to  the  tails  of  his  kites  in 
a  dark  night,  so  as  to  inspire  the  country  people  with  the  belief  that 
they  were  comets. 

After  he  left  school  he  made  himself  famous  bv  a  variety  of  in- 
ventions and  discoveries.  One  da}',  when  sitting  in  the  orchard, 
he  saw  an  apple  fall  to  the  ground.  This  simple  circumstance  in- 
duced him  to  ask  the  cause  of  the  fall  of  the  app!e  ;  and,  after  much 
patient  labor,  he  found  out  the  great  law  of  gravitation,  or  the  power 
of  matter  to  tend  towards  the  contre.  This  new  theory  of  liis  made 
a  complete  change  in  the  whole  science  of  astronomy,  and  the  name 
of  the  philosopher  spread  all  over  Europe  and  the  world. 

He  also  made  important  discoveries  in  the  nature  of  light,  the 
ebb  and  flow  of  the  tides,  in  the  measurements  of  the  magnitudes 
and  distances  of  the  stars.  At  one  time  of  his  life  he  was  elected 
a  Member  of  Parliament.  The  natures  of  his  studies  were  so  deep 
that  they  could  not  be  even  e.\})lained  to  children.  Children  must 
become  men  before  they  can  understand  the  inventions,  discoveiies, 
and  systems  of  the  great  philosopher.  But,  great  as  he  was,  he 
was  not  proud  and  conceited,  as  many  boys  and  men  ai-e.  He  was 
humble.  He  said  the  more  he  knew  the  more  he  was  convinced  of 
bis  own  ignorance;  and  he  would  never  mention  the  name  of  God 
without  taking  off  his  hat.  After  he  had  been  thinking  and  writing 
on  some  subject  for  yeai-s,  he  on  one  occasion  left  his  room,  with 
his  papers  and  the  lighted  caudle  on  the  table.  During  his  absence 
his  little  dog  got  on  the  table,  threw  over  the  candle,  and  ignited 
the  whole  of  the  valuable  papers.  When  Sir  Isaac  returned,  he 
was  sorrowed  and  surprised  to  see  what  the  little  dog  had  unknow- 
ingly done  ;  but  lie  did  not  gel  into  a  rage,  and  fume  and  swenr. 
but  merely  say,  "  Oh  !  my  little  dog,  you  little  know  what  a  treas- 
ure you  have  destroyed."  He  then  went  to  work  to  replace  ihe 
valuable  documents.  This  incident  shows  great  calmness  and 
beauty  of  character,  and  tells  us  how  to  endure  misfortunes,  when 
they  overtake  us,  with  heroic  firmness  and  Christian  temper. 

A  variety  of  anecdotes  are  told  of  the  illustrious  man.  He  was 
frequeutly  lost  in  thought.    It  is  said  that  he  would  sometimes  get 


SIR  ISAAC  NEWTON.  175 


out  of  bed  in  the  morninir,  and  put  liis  elbow  on  the  drcssinf>--table, 
and  there  remain  till  he  shivered  with  the  cold,  and  then  he  would, 
as  it  were,  awake  from  his  profound  thouc^htfulness,  and  wonder 
why  he  had  not  dressed  himself  and  gone  about  his  work. 

It  is  related  that  he  had  a  favorite  cat,  which  used  to  rro  in  and 
out  of  his  study  at  pleasure,  through  a  hole  which  wns  made  at  the 
bottom  of  the  door.  On  one  occasion,  when  the  cat  had  kittens,  he 
had  some  small  holes  made  in  the  bottom  of  the  door,  forofettino-  that 
the  little  ones  could  go  in  and  out  with  ease  where  the  great  one  did. 

When  he  was  one  day  very  busily  engaged  in  solving  some  prob- 
lem, a  gentleman  gave  him  a  call  ju>t  about  dinner-time.  The 
gentleman  having  waited  until  he  got  tired,  commenced  eating  the 
dinner  which  had  been  provided  for  Sir  Isaac,  and  finished  it  before 
he  made  his  appearance.  The  gentleman  having  left  nothing  but 
the  bones  of  a  fowl  in  a  dish,  which  he  covered  over,  Sir  Isaac  soon 
after  entered  the  room,  and  was  about  to  commence  dinner.  He 
lifted  the  cover  of  the  dish,  and,  seeing  nothing  but  bones,  exclaim- 
ed, "  Why,  really,  I  thought  I  had  not  dined.  \Vc!  philosophers 
forget  when  we  are  and  when  we  are  not  hungry."  He  thought 
he  had  dined  when  he  had  not. 

It  is  said  that  the  great  man  set  out  in  life  an  infidel  ;  but, 
having  examined  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  found  reason  to  alter 
his  opinion.  When  the  celebrated  Dr.  Halley  was  talking  infi- 
delity to  him  one  day,  he  addressed  him  in  the  following  manner : 
"  Dr.  Halley,  I  am  always  glad  to  hear  you  when  you  talk  about 
astronomy  or  mathematics,  because  they  are  subjects  you  have 
studied  and  well  understand  ;  but  you  should  not  talk  of  Christian- 
ity, for  you  have  not  studied  it :  I  have,  and  am  certain  that  you 
know  nothing  of  the  matter." 

After  a  well-spent  life  the  great  man  was  called  to  die  ;  and,  on 
his  death-bed,  he  compared  himself  to  a  little  child  gathering 
pebbles  on  the  sea-shore,  while  the  great  ocean  of  knowledge  lay 
before  him  undiscovered.  No,  he  was  not  vain,  or  puft'ed  up. 
Though  he  had  seen  farther  into  the  secrets  and  nature  of  things 
than  any  man  who  lived  before  him,  he  still  saw  his  own  little- 
ness and  weakness  when  compared  to  the  wondrous  works  of  the 
universe,  and  the  Great  God  who  called  it  into  existence. 


176 


ESCAPE   OF   ARNOLD,    THE   TRAITOR. 


ESCAPE  OF  ARNOLD,  THE  TRAITOR. 


BENEZER  Chase  was  a  private  in  the  New  Hampshire 
militia,  which  relieved  the  Pennsylvania  line  at  West 
Point,  in  1780,  when  those  troops,  beinn^  veterans,  were 
Avanted  elsewhere.  Mr.  Chji.se,  with  several  oiiiers,  being  off 
duty,  was  on  the  shore  of  the  Hudson  when  Arnold  deserted. 
When  Gen.  Washington  assigned  him  the  command  of  West 
Point,  he  left  his  own  barge  in  his  possession.  A  temporary  hut 
was  erected  on  the  east  shore  for  the  accommodation  of  the  four 
oarsmen  who  managed  the  barge.  On  the  morning  of  his  desertion. 
Gen.  Arnold  rode  down  to  the  shore,  from  his  head  quarters  at 
Robinson's  farm,  very  fast,  as  was  his  custom,  throw  his  reins  to  his 
attendant,  and  ordered  the  barge  to  be  manned.  He  tlien  directed 
his  course  towards  the  point,  but  on  reaching  the  middle  of  the 
river,  the  boat  was  observed  to  take  a  course  down  the  stream,  and 
moved  very  swiftly  through  the  water. 

The  explanation  was  afterwards  made  by  the  boatmen.  He 
hoisted  a  flag  of  truce,  and  told  theni  to  pull  for  the  Vulture  ^qo^- 
of-war,  which  lay  below,  saying  that  he  had  some  business  with  the 
captain,  and  promised  that  if  they  would  row  him  down  to  her  as 
soon  as  possible,  to  give  them  a  guinea  and  a  gallon  of  rum  each. 
On  Hearing  the  Vulture,  and  being  in  range  of  her  guns,  Arnold 
opened  his  plan  by  saying,  "  I  have  served  the  ungrateful  scoundrels 
long  enough  !"  and  declared  if  they  would  go  with  him,  they 
should  have  double  pay,  and  should  be  made  sergeants  in  the 
British  sei'vice.  One  of  them  replied  that  he  did  not  understand 
fiorhting  on  both  sides. 

"  Then,"  said  the  General,  "  you  are  my  prisoners." 
When  they  came  alongside  of  the  sloop-of-war,  Arnold  ascend- 
ed the  deck,   and   was  received   by  the  marines  with  presented 
arms.     He  then  ordered  his  men  to  come  on  board  as  prisoners 
of  war.     One  of  them,  who  had  been  their  spokesman  just  before, 


STAMMERING   OUT    A    PUX.  177 


eaid  "  it  was  a  sliabby  trick,  as  they  had  toiled  to  tlieir  utmost 
strength  to  get  the  boat  along,  now  to  refuse  the  promised  re- 
ward, and  make  them  prisoners  to  boot."' 

The  English  captain  lieard  their  murmurs,  and  stepping  for- 
ward, observed — 

''  Genei-al  Arnold,  I  command  this  ship,  and  as  long  as  I  walk 
the  quartei-deck,  no  such  transaction  sliall  take  place.  I  know 
the  meaning  of  my  words,  sir,  and  will  meet  their  comment." 

Tlieii,  addressing  himself  to  the  men,  he  continued — 

"  My  good  fellows,  I  respect  your  principles  and  fidelity  to  your 
country,  although  you  are  enemies  to  your  king  :  you  shall  have 
liberty  to  go  or  stay,  as  you  please.  Here,"  taking  them  from  his 
pocket,  "are  your- guineas  :  steward,  put  up  four  gallons  of  rum 
for  these  men." 

The  boatmen  thanked  the  gallant  and  generous  sailor,  and  re- 
turned in  safety  to  head-quarters  to  report  their  proceedings  to 
General  Washington,  who  had  just  arrived  in  camp.  Arnold, 
chagrined  and  enraged,  retired,  without  uttering  a  word,  to  tho 
cabin  of  the  sloop-of-war. 

This  statement  was  made  by  Mr.  Chase,  about  a  fortnight  before 
his  death,  in  the  year  1831. 


STAMMERING  OUT  A  PUK 

Stammering,  says  Coleridge,  is  sometimes  the  cause  of  a  pun. 
Some  one  was  mentioning,  in  Lamb's  presence,  the  cold-hearted- 
ness  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  in  restraining  the  Duchess  from 
I  rushing  up  to  the  embrace  of  her  son,  whom  she  had  not  seen 
,  for  a  considerable  time,  and  insisting  on  her  receiving  him  in 
\  state.  "  How  horribly  cold  it  was,"  said  the  narrator.  '*  Yes," 
I  said  Lamb,  in  his  stuttering  way  ;  "  but  you  know  he  is  the  Duke 
i  of  Cu-cum-her-Iandy 

i        VOL.  V.  8* 

I 

I 
i 
i 

ii 


178  CURIOSITIES   OF   SLEEP. 


CUKIOSITIES  OF  SLEEF. 


^ 


\^>  N  Turlvey,  if  a  person  happens  to  fall  asleep  in  the 
^^/"  iSS  ^  neic:hborhood  of  a  poppy-field,  and  the  wind  blows 
^A'  ^c^-  over  towards  him,  he  becomes  g-radually  narcotized, 
^^i^v  aiij  would  die,  if  the  country  people,  who  are  well  ac- 
'^'  quainted  with  the  circumstance,  did  not  bring  him  to  the 
next  well  or  stream,  and  empty  pitcher  after  pitcher  on  his 
^  fac«  and  body.  Dr.  Oppenheim,  during  his  residence  in 
Turkey,  owed  his  life  to  this  simple  and  efficacious  treatment. 
Dr.  Graves,  from  whom  this  anecdote  is  quoted,  also  reports  the 
case  of  a  gentleman,  thirty  years  of  age,  who,  from  long-continued 
sleepiness,  was  reduced  to  a  complete  living  skeleton,  unable  to 
stand  on  his  legs.  It  was  partly  owing  to  disease,  but  chieflv  to 
the  abuse  of  mercury  and  opium,  until  at  last,  unable  to  pursue  his 
business,  he  sank  into  abject  poverty  and  woe.  Dr.  Keid  mentions 
a  friend  of  his  who,  whenever  anything  occurred  to  distress  him, 
soon  became  drowsy  and  fell  asleep.  A  fellow-student,  also,  at  Ed- 
inburgh, upon  hearing  suddenly  the  unexpected  death  of  a  near 
relative,  threw  hims«;lf  on  his  bed,  and  almost  instantaneously,  amid 
the  glare  of  noon-day,  sunk  into  a  profound  slumber.  Another 
person,  reading  aloud  to  one  of  his  dearest  friends  stretched  on  his 
death-bed,  fell  fast  asleep,  and  with  the  book  siill  in  his  hand,  went 
on  reading,  utterly  unconscious  of  what  he  was  uttering.  A  woman 
at  Ilainault  slept  seventeen  or  eighteen  hours  a  day  for  fifteen  years. 
Another  is  recorded  to  have  slept  once  for  four  days.  Dr.  Macnish 
mentions  a  woman  who  spent  three-fourths  of  her  life  in  sleep,  and 
Dr.  Elliotaon  quotes  the  case  of  a  young  lady  who  slept  for  six  weeks 
and  recovered.  The  venerable  St.  Augustine,  of  Hippo,  prudently 
divided  his  hours  into  three  parts,  eight  to  be  devoted  to  sleep, 
eight  to  recreation,  and  eight  to  converse  with  the  world. 

Maniacs  are  reported,  particularly  in  the  Eastern  hemisphere,  to 
become  furiously  vigilant  during  the  full  of  the  moon,  more  espe- 


THE   WATER   BUFFALO.  179 


cially  ^vhen  the  deteriorating  rays  of  its  polarized  light  is  peimitted 
to  fall  into  their  apartment ;  hence  the  name  lunatics.  There  cer- 
tainly is  a  greater  proneness  to  disease  during  sleep  than  in  the 
waking  state  ;  for  those  wlio  pass  the  night  in  the  Campagna  di 
Roma,  inevitably  become  infected  with  its  noxious  air,  while  trav- 
elers who  go  through  without  stopping,  escape  the  miasma.  In- 
tense cold  induces  sleep,  and  those  who  perish  in  the  snow,  sleep 
on  till  they  sleep  the  sleep  of  death. 


THE  WATER  BUFFALO. 


THE  wftter  buffalo  is  nn  animal  much  in  use  at  Singapore  for 
purposes  of  draught.  It  is  a  dull,  heavy-looking  animal — 
slow  at  work,  and  I  think  disgusting  in  appearance  ;  but  remark- 
able for  sagacity  and  attachment  to  its  native  keepers.  It  has, 
however,  a  particular  antipathy  to  a  European,  and  will  immediately 
detect  him  in  a  crowd.  Its  dislike  to,  and  its  courage  in  attack- 
ing the  tiger,  is  Avell  known  all  over  India.  Not  long  ago,  as  a 
Malayan  boy,  who  was  employed  by  his  parents  in  hei-ding  some 
water  buffaloes,  was  driving  his  charge  home  by  the  borders  of 
the  jungle,  a  tiger  made  a  sudden  spring,  and  seizing  the  lad  by 
the  thio-h,  was  draoVms^  him  oflf,  when  two  old  bufialoes,  hearing: 
the  shriek  of  distress  from  the  well-known  voice  of  their  little  at- 
tendant, turned  round  and  charged  with  their  usual  rapidity.  The 
tiger,  thus  closely  pressed,  was  obliged  to  drop  his  prey  to  defend 
Limself.  While  one  buftalo  fought  and  successfully  drove  the  tiorer 
away,  the  other  kept  guard  over  the  wounded  boy.  Later  in  the 
evening,  when  the  anxious  father,  alarmed,  came  out  with  attend- 
ants to  seek  his  child,  he  ioy\\\(\  the  whole  herd,  with  the  exception 
of  the  two  old  bufialoes,  had  dispersed  them  to  ixiQ\\^  but  that  they 
were  still  there — one  standing  over  the  blee<liiig  body  of  their  little 
friend,  while  the  other  kept  watch  on  the  e<.lge  of  the  jungle  for  the 
return  of  the  tiger. 


180 


THE   OSTRICH   FAMILY. 


^'^^JAi.v    ^^— , 


THE  OSTEICH  FAMILY. 


A  GREAT  deal  has  been  said  and  written  about  the  ostrich,  some 
of  which  is  true  and  some  of  which  borders  on  the  fabulous. 
The  following  facts,  however,  condensed  from  an  article  in  Sharpens 
Magazine^  may  be  relied  upon,  and  withal,  are  not  altogether  ha-ck- 
nejed  : 

The  idea  of  the  stupidity  of  the  ostrich  seems  to  have  been 
univereally  entertained,  being  taken  for  granted  without  investiga- 
tion. Job  alludes  to  it ;  and  Pliny,  writing  from  common  report, 
says :  "  A  wonder  this  is  in  their  nature,  that  whatsoever  they 
eat — and  great  devourers  they  be  of  all  things  without  difference 
or  choice — they  concoct  and  digest  it.  But  the  veriest  fools  they 
be  of  all  othei-s ;  for  as  high  as  their  body  is,  yet  if  they  thrust 
their  head  and  neck  once  into  any  shrub  or  bush,  and  get  it  hidden, 
they  think  then  they  are  safe  enough,  and  that  no  man  seeth  them." 


THE   OSTRICH   FAMILY.  181 


^fany  a  pretty  nursery  tale  has  been  written  from  this,  and  many 
a  wise  saw  founded  on  it.  And  yet  the  hiding  of  the  head  is,  after 
all,  a  mere  fable.  Snarmann,  when  in  South  Africa,  expressly  in- 
quired in  those  parts  where  ostrielHS  most  aboimd,  and  "  never 
once  heard  mention  made  of  the  ostrich  hiding  its  head  when  it 
finds  it  cannot  make  its  escape."  The  truth  is,  the  ostrich  does 
nothing  of  the  sort.  He  tries  to  escape  as  well  as  he  can,  and 
continues  his  efforts  till  knocked  on  the  head  by  the  hunter,  or 
driven  by  him  to  a  place  where  he  may  be  captured. 

Conflicting  accounts  have  been  published  respecting  the  whole 
process  of  breeding  and  incubation  of  the  ostrich,  ^in  states 
that  as  many  as  eighty  eggs  have  been  found  in  one  nest.  Fifty 
or  sixty  have  been  certainly  discovered,  and  the  question  has  been 
whether  these  are  the  produce  of  one  female  or  of  many. 

The  balance  of  opinion  inclines  to  the  belief  that  one  male  os- 
trich attaches  himself  to  three  or  four  females,  and  that  all  these 
deposit  their  eggs  in  one  nest.  This,  according  to  Burckhardt,  who 
carefully  investigated  the  subject,  is  coumionly  made  at  the  foot  of 
some  isolated  hill,  by  the  simple  process  of  scratching  a  hole  in 
the  sand.  The  eggs  are  then  placed  close  together,  half  buried  in 
the  sand,  and  a  narrow  trench  is  drawn  round  this  to  carry  off  any 
Avater.  During  the  extreme  heat  of  the  day,  the  parent  birds  are 
instinctively  aware  that  the  warmth  of  the  sun  renders  their  atten- 
tion unnecessary  ;  "but  as  soon  as  the  shades  of  evening  fall,  they 
each  take  their  turn  upon  the  nest. 

The  cock  bird,  however,  sits  during  the  night,  and  Lichenstein 
says  that  great  numbers  of  the  smaller  beasts  of  prey,  as  jackalls 
and  wild-cats,  who  will  run  any  risk  to  procure  the  eggs,  aie  found 
crushed  to  death  around  the  nests  ;  for  the  male  bird  rushes  on 
them,  and  tramples  them  with  his  powerfid  feet  till  life  is  ex- 
tinct. 

The  nests  are  never  completely  deserted,  and  the  parent  birds 
relieve  each  other  in  keeping  watch  on  the  summit  of  the  neighbor- 
ing hill.  When  the  Arabs  descry  an  ostrich  thus  engaged,  they 
conclude  that  some  eggs  must  be  near  ;  and  on  thoir  approach  the 
old  birds  retire,  although  it  is  not  uncommon,  especially  in  South 
Africa,  for  them  to  show  fight.     Having  discovered  the  nest,  the 


182  THE  OSTRICH  FA!ktlLT. 

Arabs  dig  a  hole  in  the  ground  near  it,  in  which  they  place  a 
loaded  gun,  having  a  long  burning  match  fastened  to  the  touch- 
hole.  The  gun  is  pointed  toward  the  nest,  and  is  carefully  covered 
with  sand  and  stones.  The  birds,  after  a  time,  return  and  resume 
their  places  on  the  eggs  ;  the  gun  in  due  time  explodes,  and  next 
morning  the  Arab  is  rewarded  by  finding  one,  or  perhaps  both,  of 
the  ostriches  dead.  This  is  tlie  common  mode  of  killing  them 
practised  in  the  deserts  of  northern  Arabia. 

Various  are  the  purposes  to  which  ostrich's  eggs  are  applied ; 
first,  they  are  in  great  favor  as  a  culinary  luxury,  and  are  much 
sought  after  by  the  captains  of  the  merchant  vessels  touching  at 
the  African  ports,  being  purchased  by  them  of  the  slave  herds- 
men, whose  perquisites  they  generally  are,  for  about  six-pence  each. 
A  good-sized  egg  weighs  eleven  ounces,  is  near  seven  inches  in 
depth,  and  holds  five  pints  and  a  quarter  ;  consequently,  it  is  con- 
sidered to  iifford  a  meal  which  will  perfectly  satisfy  four  hungry 
white  men,  or  eight  of  the  more  moderate  blacks.  The  yolk  is 
very  rich  and  luscious,  and  makes  a  most  enviable  omelet,  but 
gourmands  agree  that  the  native  mode  of  cooking  them  is  perfect. 
The  Hottentots  bury  the  eggs  in  hot  ashes,  and,  through  a  small 
hole  in  the  upper  end,  the  contents  are  continually  stirred,  till  they 
acquire  a  certain  consistence,  which  the  sable  cooks  know  by  expe- 
rience indicates  the  right  moment  for  removing  them  from  the 
ashes  to  the  sack-cloth,  which  covers  the  travelei-s'  primitive  table. 
They  are  then  eaten  with  biscuit,  and  washed  down  with  copious 
draughts  of  brandy. 

The  eggs  are  frequently  found  to  contain  small  oval,  pebble-like 
bodies,  about  the  size  of  a  marrowfat  pea,  of  a  pale,  yellow  color, 
and  exceedingly  hard.  IBarrow  found  as  many  as  twelve  in  one 
egg ;  and  they  are  converted  into  buttons  by  the  dandified  Hotten- 
tots, and  perhaps  also  by  the  Boers. 

The  porcelain  character  of  the  shell,  and  its  shape,  well  adapt  it 
for  cups  ;  and  such  vessels  are  frequently  elegantly  mounted  in  sil- 
ver, and  sometimes  in  chased  gold.  The  ancient  Egyptians  used 
tliem  in  their  places  of  woi-ship,  and,  together  with  their  plumes, 
insisted  on  their  forming  part  of  the  tribute  paid  by  conquered 
countries  where  ostriches  abounded.    They  were  probably  suspended 


THE   ATHEIST.  188 


in  the  temples,  as  they  still  are  in  the  Coptic  churches,  the  Copts 
regarding  them  ;is  emblems  of  watchfulness. 

This  bird  was  not  sacred  among  the  ancient  Egyptians,  but  there 
is  reason  to  believe  that  it  was  so  with  the  Assyrians.  It  has  not 
only  been  found  as  an  ornament  on  the  robes  of  figures  in  the  most 
ancient  edifices  at  Nimroud,  but  it  was  frequently  introduced  on 
Babylonian  and  Assyrian  cylinders,  always  accompanied  by  the 
emblematic  flower.  The  Romans  appear  to  have  regarded  it  as  a 
delicacy,  for  Apicius  left  a  receipt  for  a  particular  sauce  for  dress- 
ing it ;  and  it  is  recorded  of  Ileliogabalus,  that  he  had  the  brains  of 
six  hundred  of  these  birds  served  up  as  a  dish  at  one  of  his  feasts. 
But  in  trencher  feasts  the  Emperor  Formius  far  outdid  either,  as  it 
is  related  by  Vopiscus  that  he  devoured  an  ostrich  to  his  own  sharo 
at  a  single  sitting. 

0 

THE  ATHEIST. 

"  rpHE  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  there  is  no  God."  So  said  a 
JL  philosophizing  sceptic,  as  he  sat  down  beneath  the  wide- 
spread branches  of  a  mnjestic  oak.  "  How  clear  the  proof  of 
this,"  said  he,  "  in  this  oak  tree  !  Would  an  all- wise  God  have 
put  such  a  small  fruit  as  the  acorn  on  so  large  a  ti-ee  as  the  oak  1 
while  the  tender  vine  has  fastened  to  it  the  luige  pumpkin  ? 
Certainly  not,"  he  continued  with  increased  confidence  ;  ''  a  wise 
Creator  would  have  put  the  pumpkin  on  the  great  oak  tree,  and 
the  little  acorn  on  the  tender  vine." 

Thus  satisfied,  he  reclined  carelessly  upon  the  ground  to  sleep, 
for  it  was  a  warm  autumn  day.  While  resting  there,  an  acorn 
"v\as  loosened  from  its  place,  in  the  tree  above  him,  and  fell  di- 
rectly on  his  face,  causing  him  to  s^art  up  suddenly,  Wliile 
smarting  under  the  blow  of  a  small  acorn,  his  pride  was  mortified 
and  his  pi  ilosophy  confounded. 

Common  sense  assumed  its  dominion  for  a  moment,  when  he 
exclaimed,  "There  is  a  God,  and  I  am  a  fool;  for  if  that  had 
been  a  pumpkin  instead  of  an  acorn,  my  head  would  now  have 
been  a  squiish." 


184 


CURIOUS   BOOK  TITLES. 


CUEIOUS  BOOK  TITLES. 


HAVE  seen  a  great  many  quaint,  as  well  as  some  quit© 
laughable  titles  of  books.  Quaint  titles  have  not  been 
"^o  common  for  half  a  centur}'  or  more  as  they  formerly 
were,  though,  unless  I  greatly  mistake,  it  ia  getting  to 
be  a  little  more  fashionable  now-a-days  to  imitate  the  ancient 
authors  in  this  thing.  Those  of  my  readers  who  have  the 
curiosity  to  look  over  a  list  of  some  of  the  oddest  book  titles 
that  ever  were  invented  since  the  world  began,  would  do  well  to 
consult  a  recent  volume  entitled  Salad  for  the  Solitary,  in  whioh 
such  a  list  is  given.  Nor  is  this  chapter  all  of  interest  which  the 
book  contains.  It  is  one  of  the  most  racy  and  readable  books  in 
the  whole  round  of  modern  literature.  The  compiler,  who,  carrying 
out  the  figure  employed  in  his  title-page,  styles  himself  "  An  Epi- 
cure," is  understood  to  be  a  gentleman  intimately  connected  with 
one  of  the  most  noted  publishing  houses  in  the  Union.  But 
whether  this  surmise  is  true  or  not,  he  has  made  a  most  happy  hit 
in  this  volume,  for  which  at  least  a  hundred  thousand  readers  must 
thank  him.  But  I  am  to  give  you  some  of  his  gleaning  in  respect 
to  the  titles  of  books  : 

In  Butler's  "  Remains"  it  is  remarked,  that  "  there  is  a  kind  of 
physiognomy  in  the  titles  of  books,  no  less  than  in  the  faces  of 
men,  by  which  a  skillful  observer  will  as  well  know  what  to  expect 
from  the  one  as  the  other." 

Generally  speaking,  this  is  correct.  But  the  optician  who  should 
happen  to  purchase  a  book  entitled,  "  A  New  Invention,  or  a  Paire 
of  Christall  Spectacles,  by  helpe  whereof  may  be  read  so  small  a 
print,  that  what  twenty  sheets  of  paper  will  hardly  contain,  shall 
be  discovered  in  one,"  (1644,)  would  find,  to  his  surprise,  that  it  has 
nothing  to  do  with  his  business,  but  relates  to  the  civil  war.  ISo 
also  might  mdstakes  very  readily  occur  with  regard  to  Home 
Tooke's  celebrated  "Diversions  of  Purley,"  which  a  village  book- 


CUPJOUS   BOOK   TITLES.  185 


club  actually  ordered  at  the  time  of  its  publication,  under  the  im- 
pression that  it  was  a  book  of  amusing  games. 

In  Cha77ibers^  Journal  is  a  cuiioiis  paper  on  the  subject  of  book 
titles,  from  which  we  quote  tlie  following  paragraph  : 

"  Some  titles  are  ao^reeablv  short  and  others  wonderfully  lonjr. 
A  few  years  since  a  work  was  issued  v.-ith  the  laconic  title  of  '  It ;' 
and  for  days  previous  to  its  publication  the  walls  of  London  were 
placarded  with  the  words,  '  Order  It,'  '  Buy  It,'  '  Read  It.'  Tiie 
old  Naturalist,  Lovell,  published  a  book  at  Oxford,  in  1661,  entitled 
"  Panzoologicomineralogia,"  which  is  nearly  as  long  a  word  as  Rab- 
elais's  proposed  title  for  a  book,  namely,  "  Antipericatametapar- 
hengedamphicribiationes  !  I" 

According  to  Stoive^s  Chronicle,  the  title  of  '•  Doomesday  Book" 
arose  from  the  circumstance  of  the  original  having  been  preserved 
in  a  sacred  place  at  AYestmiuster  cloisters,  called  "  Domus  Dei,"  or 
House  of  God. 

The  Latin  poetasters  seem  to  have  their  merits  called  some- 
what in  question  by  the  title  of  John  Peters'  curious  and  very  scarce 
work,  "  A  New  Way  to  Make  Latin  Verses,  whereby  any  one  of 
ordinary  capacity,  that  only  knows  the  A,  B,  C,  and  can  count  nine, 
though  he  understands  not  one  word  of  Latin,  or  what  a  verse 
means,  may  be  plainly  taught  to  make  thousands  of  Hexameter  and 
Pentameter  Verses,  which  shall  be  true  Latin,  true  Verse,  and  Good 
Sense"  (1679). 

In  1659  appeared  a  book  entitled  "  The  Key  to  Unknown 
Knowledge,  or  a  Shop  of  Five  Windows, 

"Which,  if  you  do  open, 
To  cheapen  and  copen, 
Tou  will  he  unwilling, 
For  many  a  shilling, 
To  part  with  the  profit 
"Which  you  shall  have  of  it." 

The  mottoes  on  title-pages  are  often  very  curious.  Tlie  follow- 
ing is  from  a  book  called  "  Gentlemen,  look  about  yuu"  : 

"Kead  this  over  if  you're  wise, 
If  you're  not,  then  read  it  twise  : 
If  a  fool,  and  in  the  gall 
Of  bitterness,  read  not  at  all." 


186  CURIOUS  BOOK  TITLES. 

Another,  from  Whitney's  Emblems  (1586)  : 

"Peruse  with  lieede,  then  friendly  judge,  and  hlaming  rash  refraine; 
So  maist  thou  reade  unto  thy  goods,  and  ehalte  requite  my  paine." 

One  Joshua  Barnes  wrote  a  poem  with  the  design  of  proving  the 
authorship  of  the  "  Iliad"  traceable  to  King  Solomon,  and  another 
French  critic,  Daurat,  who  lived  in  the  sixteenth  century,  pretended^ 
according  to  Scaliger.  to  find  all  the  Bible  in  Homer.  Du  Guere 
wrote  an  eulogium  on  loigs.  Erasmus  amused  himself  by  discuss- 
ing "  The  praise  of  Folly,"  in  his  work  entitled  "  Morire  Encomium," 
which,  for  the  sake  of  the  pun,  he  dedicated  to  Sir  Thomns  More. 
Pierrius'  "  Treatise  on  Beards" — Homer's  war  between  "  The  Frogs 
and  Mice,"  and  Lucian's  dissertation  on  "  A  Fly,"  present  a  curious 
triumvirate  of  classic  taste  ;  and  Gray's  ode  on  "  The  Death  of  a 
Cat,"  Pope's  epic  verses  on  "  A  Lock  of  Haii-,"  and  Swift's  "  Medi- 
tation on  a  Broomstick,"  may  serve  as  their  companions  in  modern 
times.  And,  as  we  have  already  seen,  ingenuity  itself  seems  to 
have  been  overtasked  in  the  fabrication  of  the  titles  of  books  in 
early  times,  as,  indeed,  is  again  becoming  in  our  own  ;  authors 
of  the  olden  time  used  to  puff  their  own  works,  by  affixing  taking 
titles  to  them;  such  as,  " A  Right  Merrie  and  Wittie  Enterlude, 
verie  pleasante  to  read,"  (tc.  '•  A  Marvellous  AVittie  Treatise,"  <fec. 
"  A  Delectable,  Pithie,  and  Right  Profitable  AYorke,"  <fec.  Addi- 
son's "  Spectator"  proved  so  successful,  that  it  provoked  Johnson 
to  adopt  "The  Idler"  and  "  Rambler."  A  very  amusing  blunder 
was  committed  by  a  certain  French  critic,  who,  notwithstanding  the 
conventional  use  of  the  term,  rendered  it  "  Le  Chevalier  Errant," 
and  who,  afterwards,  on  meeting  with  the  "  Colossus  of  English 
literature,"  addressed  him  with  the  astounding  and  complimentary 
epithet  of  Mr.  Vagabond. 

A  pamphlet,  published  in  1703,  had  the  following  stiange  title: 
"  The  Deformitie  of  St.  Cured,  a  sermon  preached  at  St.  Michael's 
Crooked  Lane,  before  the  Prince  of  Orange,  by  the  Rev.  J.  Crook- 
shanks.  Sold  by  Mathew  Denton,  at  the  Crooked  Billet,  near 
Crijrplegate,  and  by  all  booksellers."  The  words  of  the  text  are, 
"  Every  crooked  path  shall  be  made  straight."  The  Prince,  before 
whom  it  was  delivered,  was  deformed  in  person  I 


THE  COW  TREE.  187 


Many  adopted  allegorical  titles.  In  theological  works  these  were 
most  frequently — such  as  "  The  Heart  of  Aaron,"  "  The  Bones  of 
Joseph,"  "  The  Garden  of  Nuts,"  and  a  host  of  others,  even  less 
allowable,  might  be  adduced  ;  as,  "  A  Fan  to  drive  away  Flies,"  a 
treatise  on  purgatory  ;  "The  Shop  of  the  Spiritual  Apothecary," 
"  Matches  Lighted  by  Divine  Fire,"  "The  Gun  of  Penitence,"  &c. 
One  of  famous  Puritan  memory.  Sir  Humphrey  Lind,  published  a 
book,  which  a  Jesuit  answered  by  another,  entitled,  "  A  Paire  of 
Spectacles  for  Sir  Humphrey  Lind  ;" — the  doughty  knight  retorted 
by,  "  A  Case  for  Sir  Humphrey  Lind's  Spectacles."  Gascoigne's 
title-page  is  no  less  quaint  than  copious  :  ''  A  hundred  sundrie 
flowres  bounde  up  in  one  small  poesie  :  gathered  partly  by  trans- 
lation in  the  fyne  and  outlandish  gardens  of  Euripides,  Ovid,  Pe- 
trarch, Ariosto,  and  others  ;  and  partly  by  invention  out  of  our  own 
fruitfull  orchardes  in  England  :  yielding  sundrie  and  divers  swete 
savours  of  tragical,  comical,  and  moral  discourses,  both  pleasant  and 
profitable  to  the  well-smeliing  noses  of  learned  readers." 

It  is  fortunate  for  these  laborious  scribes  that  they  lived  in  times 
when  they  found  readers  courageous  enough  to  venture  beyond 
their  titles. 


THE  COW  TREE. 


ON  the  parched  side  of  a  rock  on  the  mountain  of  Venezuela, 
grows  a  tree  with  a  dry  and  leathery  foliage,  its  large  woody 
roots  scarcely  penetrating  into  the  ground.  For  several  months 
in  the  year  its  leaves  are  not  moistened  by  a  shower ;  its  branches 
look  as  if  they  were  dead  and  withered  ;  but  when  the  trunk  is 
bored,  a  bland  and  nourishing  milk  flows  from  it.  It  is  at  sun- 
rise that  the  vegetable  fountain  flows  most  freely.  At  that  time 
the  blacks  and  natives  are  seen  coming  from  all  parts,  provided 
with  large  bowls  to  receive  the  milk,  which  grows  yellow,  and 
thickens  at  its  surface.  Some  empty  their  vessels  on  the  spot, 
while  others  carry  them  to  their  children.  One  imagines  he 
sees  the  family  of  a  shepherd  who  is  distributing  the  milk  of  his 
flock.     It  is  named  the  palo  de  vaca,  or  cow-tree. 


188 


FOLLIES   OF   GREAT   MEN. 


FOLLIES  OF  GEEAT  MEN. 


:m^ 


j^v 


->j 


HE  Sublime  History  of  Fools  is  a  book  which 
ought  to  be  written,  and  which,  we  doubt  not, 
Avould  sell  greatly.  All  great  men  have  had 
their  follies,  and  the  field  open  for  gleaning  is 
Imost  boundless.  For  instance,  we  have  such  facts  as 
lowing  recorded  in  biographies  and  histories  :  Tycho 
lirahe,  the  astronomer,  changed  color,  and  his  legs  shook 
under  him,  on  meeting  with  a  hare  or  a  fox.  Dr.  Johnson  would 
never  ent<^r  a  room  with  his  left  foot  foremost ;  if  by  mistake  it  did 
get  in  first,  he  would  step  back  and  place  his  right  foot  foremost. 
Julius  Cajsar  was  almost  convulsed  by  the  sound  of  thunder,  and 
always  wanted  to  get  in  a  cellar,  or  under  ground,  to  escape  the 
dreadful  noise.  To  Queen  Elizabeth  the  simple  word  *'  death"  was 
full  of  horrors.  Even  Talleyrand  trembled  and  changed  color  on 
hearing  the  word  pronounced.  Marshal  Saxe,  who  met  and  over- 
threw opposing  armies,  fled  and  screamed  in  terror  at  the  sight 
of  a  cat.  Peter  the  Great  could  never  be  persuaded  to  cross  a 
bridge  ;  and  though  he  tried  to  master  the  terror,  he  failed  to  do 
so.  Whenever  he  set  foot  on  one,  he  would  shriek  out  in  distress 
and  agony.  Byron  would  never  help  any  one  to  salt  at  the  table, 
nor  would  he  be  helped  himself.  If  any  of  the  article  happened 
to  be  spilled  on  the  table,  he  would  jump  up  and  leave  his  meal 
unfinished.  The  story  of  the  great  Frenchman,  Malebranche,  is 
well  known  and  is  well  authenticated.  He  fancied  he  carried  an 
enormous  leg  of  mutton  at  the  tip  of  his  nose.  No  one  could 
convince  him  to  the  contrary.  One  day  a  gentleman  visiting  him 
adopted  this  plan  to  cure  him  of  his  folly  :  he  approached  him 
with  the  intention  of  embracing  him.  when  he  suddenly  exclaimed, 
"  Ha  !  your  leg  of  mutton  has  struck  me  in  the  face  !"  at  which 


THE   DEAF   AND   DUMB   BOY.  189 


Malebranche  expressed  regret.  The  friend  went  on  :  "  May  I  not 
remove  the  incumbrance  with  a  razor  ?"  '•  Ah,  my  friend  I  my 
friend  !  I  owe  you  more  than  life.  Yes,  yes  ;  by  all  means  cut  it 
otf  I"  In  a  twinkling-  the  friend  lightly  cut  the  tip  of  the  philoso- 
pher's nose,  and  adroitly  taking  from  under  his  cloak  a  superb  leg 
of  mutton,  raised  it  in  triumph.  ''Ah!"  cried  Malebranche,"! 
live  !  I  bi-eathe  !  I  nra  saved  !  My  nose  is  free  ;  my  head  is  free; 
but — but — it  was  raw,  and  that  is  cookedP  "  Truly  ;  but  then  you 
have  been  seated  near  the  fire  ;  that  must  be  the  reason."  Male- 
branche was  satisfied.  From  that  time  he  made  no  more  complaints 
about  any  mutton-leg,  or  other  monstrous  protuberance  on  his  nose. 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  BOY. 

rjlHIS  little  fellow  was  at  school  in  France,  and  he  was  deaf  and 
j_  dumb  ;  that  is,  he  could  neither  hear  nor  speak.  A  way  lias 
been  discovered,  however,  by  vrhich  such  poor  children  may  be 
taught  a  great  deal. 

Well,  some  gentlemen  went  to  this  school,  and  one  of  them  sin- 
gled out  this  boy  from  among  the  others,  that  lie  might  examine 
liim.  He  was  first  asked,  "  ^Yho  made  the  world  ?"  The  child 
took  his  slate  and  wrote  the  first  verse  in  the  Bible.  "In  the  be- 
ginning God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth."  The  gentleman 
then  asked  him,  "  How  do  you  hope  to  be  saved  •"  The  child 
wrote,  "  This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that 
Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners."  Very  proper 
answers,  were  they  not  ?  Ah,  my  dear  children  !  perhaps  y(»u 
could  not  have  answered  the  questions  as  well.  I  only  wisli  for  all 
of  you,  that  you  knew  as  much  in  your  hearts  as  this  little  boy  ; 
then  you  would  be  wise  both  for  time  and  eternity.  But  I  will  tell 
you  the  last  question  the  gentleman  asked  him.  It  was  this,  "  How 
is  it  that  God  has  made  you  dmf  iu\(\  dumb,  while  all  those  around 
you  can  hear  and  speak?"  The  poor  child  seemed  puzzled  for  .1 
moment,  and  a  suggestion  of  unbelief  seemed  to  be  put  into  his 
head,  but  quickly  recovering  himself,  he  wrote,  "  Even  so,  Father, 
for  so  itseemelh  good  in  thy  sight."     Happy  little  boy  ! 


190 


A  KEEN  REBUKE. 


A  KEEN  EEBUKE. 


FATHER  once  rebuked  his  cruel  children  in  the  fol- 

lowina:  manner.     He  told  thera  tliat  lie  had  some 

?  very  heavy  charges  to  bring  against  them,  and  that 

f^%^-^    the  complainants  whom  they  had  injured  were  all 

waiting  in  the  next  room,  and  would  appear  against  them. 

The  children  were  much  frightened  at  this,  and  begged 
hard  to  know  what  it  was  they  were  charged  with'.  Their  father 
told  them  that  one  complainant  had  been  pushed  by  them  into  a 
puddle  up  to  his  knees;  another  wounded  by  a  sharp  spike;  a 
third  knocked  down  ;  a  fourth  stoned  ;  a  fifth  robbed  of  all  that 
his  house  contained  ;  and  a  sixth  frightened  almost  out  of  his 
senses.  All  the  children  denied  the  truth  of  these  accusations,  and 
declared  that  they  had  never  been  guilty  of  such  cruelty  in  their 
lives ;  but  their  father  told  them  he  could  not  believe  them,  for 
that  children  who  were  cruel  would  not  scruple  to  tell  falsehoods. 
He  then  fetched  a  basket  from  the  next  room,  and  placed  it  on  the 
table.  Uncovering  the  basket,  he  took  out  a  poor  fly  which  one 
of  them  had  wantonly  pushed  into  a  cup  of  treacle;  a  cock-chafer 
which  they  had  been  spinning  ;  a  butterfly  which  they  had  knocked 
down  as  he  was  flying  over  the  garden  ;  a  frog,  whose  leg  they  had 
broken  with  a  stone,  as  he  hopped  about  by  the  side  of  a  pond  ; 
and  a  bird's  nest  with  the  eggs  they  had  taken  from  it.  He  then 
went  out  and  returned  with  a  dog,  to  whose  tail  they  had  cruelly 
tied  an  old  tin  kettle,  which  rattled  against  the  ground  as  he  ran, 
and  drove  him  almost  mad.  The  children  were  all  confounded. 
Their  father  explained  to  them,  that  if  they  had  committed  those 
acts  of  cruelty  towards  their  fellow-creatures,  they  would  have  been 
severely  punished  ;  but  that  their  wickedness  was  not  less  clearly 
shown  by  being  committed  against  feeble  and  helpless  creatures, 
which  had  neither  power  to  help  themselves,  nor  to  punish  their 


ES'GENUnT   OF   BIRD*  191 


tormenters.  They  cried  whih^.  their  father  spoke  of  the  bird's  nest, 
and  he  succeeded  in  convincing  them  of  the  sin  which  they  lind 
committed  ;  and  though  the  punishment  he  inflicted  was  light 
compared  with  their  cruelty,  it  impressed  on  their  youthful  minds 
the  remembrance  of  their  transgression,  and  they  did  not  again 
practise  cruelty.  The  child  who  is  cruel  to  insects  or  animals,  is  a 
tormentor  of  God's  creatures,  and  may  well  fear  his  judgments 
whose  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works,  and  without  whose 
permission  not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  grounrl.  It  is  better  to 
overcome  evil  in  youth,  than  to  let  it  overcome  us  in  manhood. 


mGENUITY  OF  BIRDS. 

THRUSHES  feed  very  much  on  snails.  "  Having  frequently  ob- 
served some  broken  snail-shells  near  two  projecting  pebbles 
on  a  gravel  walk,  which  had  a  hollow  between  them,"  says  one,  "  I 
endeavored  to  discover  the  occasion  of  their  being  brought  to  that 
situation.  At  last  Lsaw  a  thrush  fly  to  the  spot,  with  a  snail-shell 
in  his  mouth,  which  he  placed  between  the  two  stones,  and  ham- 
mered at  it  with  his  beak  till  he  had  broken  it,  and  was  then  able 
to  feed  on  its  contents.  The  bird  must  have  discovered  that  he  could 
not  apply  his  beak  with  sufficient  force  to  break  the  shell  when  it 
was  rolling  about,  and  he  therefore  found  and  made  use  of  a  spot 
which  would  keep  the  shell  in  one  position." 

When  the  lapwing  wants  to  procure  food,  it  seeks  for  a  worm's 
cast,  or  hole,  and  stamps  the  ground  by  the  side  of  it  with  its  feet, 
somewhat  in  the  same  manner  as  I  have  often  done  when  a  boy,  in 
order  to  procure  worms  for  fishing.  After  doing  this  for  a  short 
time,  the  bird  waits  for  the  issue  of  the  worm  from  its  liole,  which, 
alarmed  at  the  shaking  of  the  ground,  endeavors  to  make  its  escape, 
when  it  is  immediately  seized,  and  becomes  the  prey  of  the  ingenious 
bird.  The  lapwing  also  frequents  the  haunts  of  moles.  The  ani- 
mal, when  in  pursuit  of  worms,  on  which  it  feeds,  frightens  them, 
and  the  worm,  in  attempting  to  escape,  comes  to  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  where  it  is  seized  by  the  lapwing.  The  same  mode  of 
alarming  hie  prey  has  been  related  of  the  gull. 


192 


EblTORIAI.   TABLE   TALK. 


EDITOKIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


^!^'  ^  ' 

,E  arc  iiineh  obliged  to  H.  Ilnhhard  for  his  note,  hut 
the  cliarade  and  nna^^n-ains  are  so  very  old  that  we 
cainiot  publish  them, 

J.  B.  of  \ew  York  sends  ns  some  cuttinffs  for 
our  game  of  planting.     Here  they  are: 
^?^^^         1.  If  Jin  emperor  be  planted,  what  will  come  np  \ 
I-?^*  "^^C"         2.  If  one's  husband  be  planted,  what  will  come  up? 

""■  ^'        3.  If  fat  p:ii/.;ibeth  be  planted,  what  will  come  up? 
A.  D.  L.  Your  arithmetical  puzzle  is  already  published  in  the  "  Boy'a 
Treasury  of  Sports." 

Little  Caroline.  We  want  original  enigmas,  not  second-hand  ones. 


CIIAHADK    NO.    V. 

My  first  is  the  chief  of  delights 

That  boys  from  their  cradles  desire 
Its  shrill  crack  more  musical  far 
To  them  than  Apollo's  sweet  lyre, 
E.xcept  when  applied  with  masterly  art, 
To  root  out  the  evil  that  lurks  in  the  heart. 

My  second  the  Bible  commends 

To  the  rich,  the  wise,  and  the  great, 
With  eloquence  pleadeth  their  cause, 
And  blesseth  their  lowly  estate; 
They  are  ever  with  us,  without  search  are  found. 
The  more  we  give  to  them,  the  more  we  abound. 


When  the  rich  man  lies  down  in  the  grave, 

He  takes  not  his  riches  away, 
And  anxious  expectants  cluster  around, 
To  hear  what  my  third  has  to  say : 
Its  mandate  is  law,  and  if  it  sore  pinches 
The  fawning  false  friend,  then  vainly  he  flinches. 


EDITOEIAL   TABLE   TALK.  193 

My  whole  is  a  sombre  brown  bird, 

That  sadly  each  night  trills  his  lay; 
And  each  passer-by  stops  to  hear 
What  this  bird  of  eve  has  to  sa}'. 
As  ever  he  sings  the  same  p]:iintive  song, 
Who  that  has  e'er  heard  him  will  guess  on  this  long? 

GUESS. 

CHARADE    NO.    VI. 

Awake,  idle  sleeper.     Up !  up !  and  arise, 
Already  my  first  hath  made  vocal  the  skies. 
Arouse  thee!  arouse  thee!  mount  horse,  and  away; 
For  long  is  the  journey  before  thee  to-day. 

Forget  not  my  second,  when  weary  thy  steed. 
By  that  shall  thou  urge  on  his  lingering  speed ; 
For  many  a  forest  and  ford  must  be  passed. 
Before  thou  shall  reach  thine  own  cottage,  at  last. 

And  ere  though  thine  own  cottage  garden  thou'lt  tread 
The  dews  of  the  night  on  my  whole  shall  be  shed, 
On  my  beautiful  whole,  yet  less  blue  and  less  bright 
Than  the  eyes  which  will  meet  thee  with  glistening  delight. 

K.  8.  P. 

BUDGET    OP    ANAGRAMS,  NO.    III. 

1.  A    PEAR    NIPT.  5.    I    RAN    TO    STAY. 

2.  Ten  ate  sir.  6.  Prove  kels. 

3.  To  A  poet.  i.  i'o  sever. 

4.  Real  sup.  8.  See  rovek. 

ARTHUR   J.    WHEELER. 


enigma    NO.    IV. 

My  2,  5,  1,  mny  be  lucky  or  unlucky. 

My  7,  3,  4,  rivals  the  diamond. 

In  our  day  there  is  a  rage  for  the  6,  3,  4. 

My  7,  3,  6,  is  nn  abode.        ;  ( 

The  3,  6,  7,  belongs  to  all  things. 

My  7,  5,  6,  is  to  be  found  in  a  railroad  depot. 

My  whole  was  ono  of  the  earliest  musicians.  H.  b.  p. 

VOL.  V.  9  ^p 


194  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


ENIGMA    FOR    SCHOLARS    IN    ANCIENT    GEOGRAPHY    AND    HISTORY. 

I  am  composed  of  21  letters. 

At  15,  6,  10,  4,  in  Italy,  bells  were  invented  and  first  used. 

One  of  the  greatest  female  poets  of  ancient  times  was  born  at  12,  19, 
8,  13,18,  11,  15,  11,  on  the  island  of  18,  11,  1,  5,  9,  1. 

1,  19,  16,  6,  20,  was  one  of  the  earliest  commercial  cities  of  Asia,  and 
its  inhabitants  were  the  first  who  steered  their  ships  at  night  by  the 
stars. 

The  course  of  the  river  12,  11,  4,  20,  16,  11,  3,  has  given  rise  to  a 
word  of  common  use  in  our  language. 

In  the  straits  of  1,  4,  10,  14,  12,  19,  1,  the  greatest  naval  battle  of 
ancient  times  was  fought. 

The  people  of  14,  3,  12,  11,  15,  11,  are  said  to  have  built  a  wall 
around  their  city  to  keep  out  the  cold. 

The  7,  4,  10,  12,  21,  3,  14,  the  2,  14,  16,  12,  9,  3,  of  Solomon,  was 
built  on  one  of  the  oae^es  of  the  desert. 

The  island  of  17,  9,  20,  2,  19,  14,  has  heard  the  sighs  of  many  a 
Christian  martyr. 

My  whole  contains  the  names  of  three  celebrated  ancient  geograph- 
ers. _____^  CAROLINE   M.   P. 

ANAGRAMS    OF    SCRIPTURE    PROPER    NAMES,    NO.    III. 

1.  Pet  hens.  3.  A  hat  bag. 

2.  Hot  Sam,  4.  Taw  them. 

henry  a.  danker. 

NAMES    OF    PLACES    IN    INDIANA,    ENIGMATICALLY    EXPRESSED. 

1.  A  color,  and  a  piece  of  ground. 

2.  A  favorite  sport  among  boys,  and  a  weight. 

3.  A  name,  and  a  collection  of  houses. 

4.  A  boy's  name,  and  what  boys  like. 

6.  A  necessary  article  in  a  house,  and  a  shallow  piece  of  water. 
6.  The  opposite  of  old,  and  a  place  of  safety. 

SAMUEL  B.  WHEELOCK. 

COUNTIES    IN    MICHIGAN,    ENIGMATICALLY   EXPRESSED. 

1.  An  eminence,  and  a  valley. 

2.  A  large  body  of  water,  and  an  article. 

3.  A  part  of  a  fowl,  and  a  shallow  part  of  a  stream. 

4.  A  place  for  education,  and  a  small  ship. 

5.  To  be  joyful,  and  to  gain.  AStiHUR  J.  wbeslsb. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  l95 


answer  to  charade  no.  iv. 
Ratan. 
Answered  by  Samuel  B.  Wheelock,  Henry  A.  Danker,  L.  and  C. 
Miidg-e,  John  E.  Wheelock,  Susan  G.  HoUingsworlh,  Arthur  J.  Wheeler, 
Scotchy  of  Brooklyn,  and  Irvin  G.  Van. 


A:!fSWER    TO    HISTORICAL    QUERIES,  NO.    III. 

21.  Frederick  the  Great  was  king  of  Prussia.  He  was  born  in  1711, 
and  died  1786,  at  the  age  of  75 

22.  That  the  Jews  were  in  England  as  early  as  10G5  is  evident  from 
the  following  law,  "That  all  Jews  who  were  in  the  kingdom  were  to 
be  under  the  protection  of  the  king."  They  were  banished  from  Eng- 
land in  1290,  and  re-admitted  in  1655. 

23.  Coats  of  arms  were  first  used  in  England  by  the  crusaders  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  Third,  or  13th  century. 

24.  Nev/spapers  were  first  printed  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  to 
give  notice  of  the  defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada.  They  were  then 
discontinued  till  the  time  commonly  assigned  to  their  publication,  1642. 

25.  The  translation  of  the  Bible  now  used  by  the  Protestants,  orig- 
inated in  1610,  under  the  direction  of  James  I. 

26.  The  Spanish  Armada  was  a  large  fleet  sent  by  Philip  the  Sec- 
ond of  Spain  to  conquer  England.  It  figured  in  1588.  It  was  de- 
stroyed partly  by  a  storm,  and  partly  by  the  English  fleet. 

27.  Sir  Richard  Whittington  was  elected  Lord  Mayor  of  London  at 
three  respective  elections,  (in  the  reigns  of  Richard  the  Second  and 
Henry  the  Fourth  and  Fifth,)  in  1397,  1406,  and  in  1419. 

28.  Constantinople  was  taken  by  the  Turks  in  1453.  It  resulted  in 
the  destruction  of  the  eastern  empire  of  the  Romans. 

29.  Lisbon  was  destroyed  by  an  earthquake  on  November  1,  1755. 
80.  The  Sandwich  Islands  were  discovered  by  Captain  Cook  in  the 

year  1788.  l.  and  c.  mudge. 

Also  answered  by  Julia  M.  Hill,  and  in  part  by  H.  B.  Foster. 


a.nbwer  to  anagrams  of  scripture  proper  names,  no.  ii. 

1.  Parthians.  3.  Gadarenes. 

2.  Phikehas.  4.  Kadmiel. 

HENRY  B.  POSTER. 

Also  answered  by  Hejiry  A,  Dankor,  L.  Mudgo,  and  C.  Mudge  of 
Brooklyni  N.  Y. 


196  EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


answer  to  enigma  no.  iii. 

The  Eye. 
Answered  by  G.  K.  Brady,  Arthur  J.  Wheeler,  and  Albert  L.  Ed- 
wards' sister  Mary.  Thank  you,  Mary,  for  your  pretty  little  note  and 
kind  invitation.  Several  of  our  correspondents  have  taken  it  for 
granted  that  the  solution  to  this  enigma  was  the  letter  E,  and  it  is 
rather  a  coincidence  that  it  does  tit  so  well. 


answer  to  rebus  no.  ii. 

Prelate. 
Answered  by  Albert  Danker,  jr.  L.  and  C.  Mudge,  and  Scotchy  of 
Brooklyn. 

NEW    PUBLICATION. 

A  New  Qazetteer  of  the  Uniled  Slates. — One  of  the  most  truly  val- 
uable standard  works  which  has  been  issued  from  the  American  pre.ss 
for  many  a  day,  is  a  Gazetteer  of  the  United  States  published  by  the 
enterprising  house  of  Lippincott,  Granibo  &i  Co.  of  Philadelphia.  It 
gives  a  full  and  comprehensive  view  of  the  slates  and  territories  be- 
longing to  the  American  confederacy,  and  is  the  work  of  Messrs. 
Thomas  Baldwin  and  J.  Thomas.  It  extends  to  some  1,400  royal  oo- 
tiivo  pages.  A  work  of  this  kind  was  greatly  needed.  Everything  in 
the  shape  of  a  gazetteer,  such  has  been  the  rapid  growth  of  our  country, 
was  so  far  antedated  as  to  be  in  a  great  measure  useless.  This  work, 
embracing  the  important  results  of  the  census  of  1850,  is  one  that  can 
be  relied  up®n,  as  giving  an  accurate  synopsis  of  the  country  as  it  is  at 
the  present  time.  I  have  examined  it  with  a  great  deal  of  care,  taking 
those  towns  and  villages  with  which  I  was  intimately  acquainted  in 
different  portions  of  the  Union,  and  I  have  not  been  able  to  detect  in 
it  a  single  error,  while  the  information  given  is  much  more  full  than 
in  any  previous  work  of  the  kind.  It  must  be  invaluable  as  a  book  of 
reference.  It  is  tastct\illy  and  perspicuously  printed,  and  the  arrange- 
ment is  such,  that  the  precise  information  one  is  in  search  of  can  be 
found  with  the  utmost  facility.     The  price  of  the  book  is  $4. 


THE    PET   RABBITS. 


199 


THE  PET  RABBITS, 


m:^k 


-''.'^c 


f^  HERE  was  once  a  little  girl,  whose  name  was  Au- 

^    gusta.     She  lived  in   the  city  of  Philadelphia, 

and  could  not  amuse  herself  by  playing  about  in 

the  green  fields,  as  chihlren  whose  home  is  in 

country  can. 

rs.   Le   Hence,   Augusta's  mother,   was  a  kind    and 
thoughtful  parent,  and  she  noticed  that  her  little  girl  was 
very  fond  of  pets,  so  one  day,  when  she  was  out  walking,  she  pur- 
chased a  beautiful  pair  of  English  rabbits,  and  ordered  them  sent 
home,  in  a  covered  basket. 

She  then  hastened  her  steps,  for  she  wished  to  be  at  home  when 
the  little  creatures  arrived,  that  she  might  enjoy  Augusta's  surprise 
and  pleasure. 

About  three  o'clock,  while  Mrs.  Le  Hence  was  in  her  chamber, 
and  Augusta  swinging  in  the  yard,  the  bell  rung,  and  in  a  few 
moments  after  Augusta  burst  into  her  mother's  room,  staggering 
under  the  weight  of  the  large  basket,  but  with  a  face  glowing  with 
intense  excitement  and  pleasure. 

"  Oh,  mamma,  are  these  sweet  little  creatures  for  me  V  she 
cried. 

"  My  daughter,"  said  mamma,  smiling  as  she  spoke,  "  if  I  tell 
you  that  they  are,  what  return  for  the  gift  can  you  make  me?" 

"  0,  mamma,  I  love  you  just  as  much  now  as  I  possibly  can  ; 
my  heart  is  full  of  love  ;  but  you  shall  see  how  very,  very  good  I 
will  be,  all  my  whole  life  long,  to  pay  for  this." 

"  Well,  take  your  rabbits  from  the  basket,  my  child,  and  let  the 
little  boy  go.  You  must  ask  Nancy  to  give  you  some  cabbage- 
leaves  for  their  supper,  and  request  her  to  remember  the  addition 
to  our  family  every  market  morning.     George  Harris  shall  make 


200  THE   PET  RABBITS. 


a  place  for  them  to  burrow  in,  when  he  comes  to  split  up  the 
wood  for  kindling  Nancy's  fires." 

In  a  few  days  the  arrangements  for  the  comfort  of  the  new 
comers  were  all  completed,  and  Augusta  had  given  them  names — 
Lily  and  Daisy. 

Lily  was  pure  white,  with  red  eyes ;  but  Daisy  was  spotted  with 
black,  had  black  ears  and  black  eyes. 

The  friendship  between  Augusta  and  her  pets  grew  continually. 
They  soon  preferred  the  house  to  the  garden,  and  they  followed 
her  about  from  room  to  room  like  kittens.  They  slept  in  her  lap, 
came  hopping  up  to  her  room  to  awake  her  in  the  morning,  and 
were  always  waiting  under  her  chair  for  her  when  she  went  down 
to  the  dining-room,  as  the  bell  rung  for  the  meals. 

Augusta  was  sure  no  other  rabbits  ever  knew  half  so  much  as 
hers  did,  and  she  once  told  her  mother  that  if  she  ever  grew  up  to 
be  a  woman,  and  had  children  of  her  own,  she  knew  she  could 
never  love  them  any  better  than  she  did  Lily  and  Daisy. 

One  night,  as  Augusta  was  stepping  into  bed,  she  heard  a 
strange  kind  of  a  noise  proceeding  from  the  yard.  She  had  heard 
that  sound  once  before.  Daisy  had  uttered  it  when  very  much 
terrified  by  a  large  dog. 

Augusta  leaped  from  her  bed,  and  before  father  or  mother  could 
stop  her,  she  darted  through  the  door,  down  stairs,  and  ran,  with 
her  bare  feet,  over  the  cold  pavement  of  the  yard. 

Her  parents  followed  as  fast  as  they  could,  and  found  their  child 
grasping  with  frantic  force  the  throat  of  a  monstrous  black  mas- 
tifi",  who  had  closed  his  teeth  upon  the  body  of  poor,  poor 
Daisy. 

Little  Lily  was  near  by,  too  much  alarmed  for  her  mate  to  run 
away,  yet  terribly  afraid  of  the  awful  dog. 

With  much  difliculty  Mr.  Le  Hence  rescued  the  unfortunate  little 
animal  from  the  mouth  of  the  dog,  and  drove  him  from  the  yard. 
He  then  bolted  the  gate,  which  some  careless  servant  had  left  open, 
and  taking  his  little  girl,  with  her  bleeding  pet  clasped  to  her 
bosom,  in  his  arms,  he  returned  to  the  house,  followed  by  his  wife, 
who  carried  Lily  in  also. 

The  chamber  where  Augusta  slept  was,  that  night,  a  scene  of 


THE    PET    RABBITS.  201 


lamentation.     A  sympathizing  little  heart  was  bleeding  more  pain- 
fully than  the  wound  on  bunny's  white  neck. 

Gentle  and  faithful  nursing  soon  cured  the  wounds  the  dog's 
teeth  had  made,  but  there  was  some  internal  injury  which  caused 
Daisy  to  droop  day  by  day.  He  could  not  eat  as  before,  and  he 
did  not  often  want  to  play,  but  he  was  just  as  sensible,  gentle,  and 
loving  as  ever — perhaps  more  so. 

He  seemed  to  think  deeply,  would  watch  the  progress  of  mat- 
ters and  things,  and  by  many  signs,  showed  that  he  understood  all 
that  went  on  around  him.  Even  Nancy,  the  cook,  noticed  this. 
"  Why,"  said  she  to  Mrs.  Le  Hence,  "  that  creature  is  surely  hu- 
man. See  how  he  watchers  everything  I  do,  and  seems  to  take 
comfort  in  having  things  kept  clean  and  in  order.  Why,  madam, 
when  I  wash  this  end  of  the  hearth,  he  even  sits  quietly  on  that, 
until  I  wipe  this  dry — then  he  comes  over  and  sits  on  the  clean 
end,  while  I  wash  the  other,  and  his  eyes  are  on  me  all  the  time. 
I  feel  as  if  his  heart  were  human." 

Poor  Daisy  !  his  days  were  numbered.  He  did  not  appear  to  suffer 
any,  and  so  his  little  mistress  thought  he  could  not  die.  Lily  was  very 
attentive  to  him,  and  their  constant  and  true  affection  for  each  other, 
might  well  have  been  a  lesson  to  little  human  brothers  and  sisters. 

One  day  Augusta  saw  Lily  carry  Daisy  down  the  cellar  stairs 
upon  her  back.  She  laughed,  and  thought  Lily  was  very  kind  to 
her  sick  brother,  and  then  forgot  all  about  it. 

When  dinner-time  came,  the  rabbits  were  both  missing  from 
their  mistress'  chair.  She  called  them,  but  they  did  not  come. 
After  looking  for  them  for  a  few  moments,  she  suddenly  remem- 
bered what  she  had  seen  that  forenoon.  A  disagreeable  feeling 
crept  over  her,  and  she  ran  quickly  down  the  cellar  stairs.  The 
family  were  all  seated  at  table,  when  up  from  under  their  very  feet 
came  a  sharp  scream  of  distress  and  terror.  The  father  started  from 
his  seat,  and,  followed  by  the  others,  descended  to  the  coal  cellar. 
There  stood  Augusta,  in  an  agony  of  grief,  and  before  her  sat  Lily, 
motionless,  keeping  guard  over  the  body  of  Daisy,  who  Wiis 
stretched  beside  her,  dead — stone  dead. 

Daisy's  body  was  carried  up  stairs,  Lily  slowly  following.  Food 
was  offered  her ;  but  she  refused  to  taste  of  it. 

VOL.  V.  9*  Mr 


202  PUTTING  OUT  A   LIMB. 


Augusta,  in  tears  and  sorrow,  wrapped  her  dear  bunny  in  a 
winding-sheet,  and  laid  him  in  a  grave  among  the  flowers.  Lily 
was  not  allowed  to  see  where  her  companion  was  buried,  but  the 
next  morning  she  was  found  seated  upon  the  httle  grave. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  faithful  mourner  could  be  induced 
to  eat,  and  Augusta  was  afraid  that  Lily  would  starve  to  death  ;  so 
that  her  joyj  when  she  did  at  length  begin  to  nibble  at  her  fa- 
vorite food,  in  some  measure  relieved  her  sorrow  for  Daisy's  death. 

About  this  time  there  came  a  lady  to  visit  Mrs.  Le  Hence,  who, 
upon  hearing  the  story  of  the  unfortunate  Daisy,  became  so  much 
interested  therein,  that  she  wrote  some  verses  for  Augusta,  to  place 
upon  the  garden  grave. 

With  them  I  will  close  this  true  story  of  the  Pet  Rabbits. 

Sleep  in  thy  pleasant  resting-place, 

Thou  guileless  one. 
Soon  didst  thou  run  thy  little  race, 

Poor  litte  Bunn. 

Death  came  in  an  untimely  hour, 

Daisy,  for  thee. 
But  from  his  stern  and  cruel  power 

Thou  couldst  not  flee. 

Now,   in    this  peaceful,  flowery  hed. 

Thy  form   shall    lie. 
Here  gently  we  have  placed  thy  head. 

Daisy,  good  hye. 

HELEN    BRUCE. 


PUTTING  OUT  A  LIMB. 

A  GENTLEMAN  relating  one  night,  at  a  coffee  room  in  Oxford, 
that  Dr. had  put  out  his  leg  in  crossing  a  kennel,  five  sur- 
geons immediately  set  out  for  the  apartments  of  the  doctor,  but 
returned  dismayed,  saying  that  no  such  thing  had  happened. 
"  Why,"  replied  the  gentleman,  "  how  can  a  man  cross  a  kennel 
without  putting  out  his  leg  ?" 


AK   EXCURSION  THROUGH   ETRURIA. 


203 


AN  EXCUESIOJSr  THROUGH  ETRURIA. 


HERE  is  just  enough  known  of  the  ancient  Etruscans 
to  excite  our  wonder  and  admiration,  and  to  make 
us  anxious  to  learn  more  of  their  early  history. 
CVVj>  That  they  excelled  the  whole  world  at  one  time, 
Greece,  perhaps,  excepted,,  in  some  of  the  fine  arts,  and 
in  many  branches  of  mechanical  genius,  there  is  not  the 
shadow  of  doubt.  Their  vases,  to  speak  of  nothing  else, 
have  never  been  surpassed,  whether  we  regard  the  tasteful  design 
of  these  articles,  with  their  peculiar  bas-reliefs  and  paintings,  or 
their  execution.  But  how  and  when  these  Etruscans  derived  the 
perfect  knowledge  of  the  arts  which  they  possessed,  and  what  na- 
tion had  the  honor  of  imparting  this  knowledge,  are  questions 
about  which  the  savans  disagree  widely  enough.  It  has  been 
warmly  contended  that  Greece  herself  received  her  knowledge  of 
the  fine  arts  from  Etruria.  Be  that  as  it  may,  however,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  Etruria  was  nearly  at  the  zenith  of  her  glory  while 
Greece  was  in  a  state  of  semi-barbarism. 

There  are  two  modes  by  which  the  curious  traveler  can  see  the 
most  noteworthy  of  the  Etruscan  ruins.  One  is,  to  land  at  Civita 
Vecchia,  and  hunt  them  up  at  that  point ;  and  the  other,  to  pro- 
ceed directly  through  Etruria  from  Florence  to  Rome.  I  chose  the 
latter  mode,  and  was  rewarded  for  a  very  fatiguing  excursion,  by 
a  half  hour's  gaze  at  some  Etruscan  tombs.  I  would  tell  the  reader 
ever  so  much  about  these — how  they  were  constructed,  and  of  what 
materials  ;  what  there  was  in  them  (that  would  not  take  long,  as 
most  of  the  articles  of  value  found  there  are  scattered  all  over 
Europe)  besides  bats  and  hzards,  and  what  there  had  been  in 
them.  But  as  I  learned  very  little  new,  myself,  of  Etruscan  life 
and  manners,  I  presume  that  the  sketch  I  might  give  would  bo  but 
a  resume  of  what  the  reader  knows  well  enough  already  ;  and  so 
I  will  not  run  the  risk  of  tiring  him  with  my  Etruscan  researches. 


204  AN  EXCURSION  THROUGH  ETRURIA. 

But  he  shall  have  a  glance  at  the  lights  and  shadows  of  this  ex- 
cursion through  old  Etruria,  nevertheless. 

There  are  two  routes  to  Rome  from  Florence.  One  is  by  the 
way  of  Siena — the  other  by  the  way  of  Perugia.  The  best  route, 
on  most  accounts,  is  the  latter,  though  we — myself  and  my  two 
Scotch  friends — took  the  other.  "  And  why  not  take  the  best 
route  ?"  For  the  same  reason,  precisely,  that  Jack  did  not  eat  his 
supper.  The  first  thing  we  did  on  our  arrival  at  Florence,  was  to 
apply  at  the  office  of  the  diligence  for  seats  to  Rome  ;  but  all  the 
seats  were  engaged  for  some  ten  days  ahead.  It  was  on  the  eve 
of  Holy  Week,  and  all  the  world,  with  some  exceptions,  were  press- 
ing Romeward.  We  were  obliged  to  hire  a  vettura,  at  an  enor- 
mous price ;  and  as  we  had  not  time,  after  seeing  the  lions  of 
Florence,  to  go  by  the  way  of  Perugia  (a  route  which  requires  more 
time  than  the  other)  without  losing  some  of  the  exhibitions  of 
Holy  Week,  we  went  by  Siena. 

A  most  remarkable  personage  was  Francesco,  the  man  of  whom 
■we  hired  our  carriage.  He  was  of  truly  aldermanic  proportions, 
and  carried  himself  right  regally.  He  had  the  finest  cavalli  in  all 
Florence.  Everybody  would  tell  lis  so,  if  we  would  take  the 
trouble  to  ask  everybody.  And  such  a  vetturino  as  he  would  give 
us  !  the  greatest  driver  in  Europe,  by  all  odds.  He  knew  all  the 
best  inns  in  Italy,  and  he  would  feed  us  as  if  we  were  three  princes, 
all  the  way.  When  Francesco  had  completed  this  puff  of  his 
horses,  carriage,  and  driver,  he  went  off  in  a  perfect  tornado  of 
rhapsody  on  his  own  merits.  He  made  himself  out  to  be  a  man 
of  most  wonderful  capacities.  Since  Adam's  time,  there  had  not 
been  such  an  adept  in  the  vetturino  business,  if  we  were  to  credit 
his  story.  And  then,  to  complete  the  catalogue  of  his  graces,  he 
remarked,  with  emphasis,  that  he  had  the  highest  possible  sense  of 
honor,  and  that  he  would  not  do  violence  to  the  promptings  of  his 
conscience,  in  the  slightest  particular,  for  the  whole  world.  He 
must  have  set  a  great  store  by  that  conscience  of  his,  as  he  fre- 
quently interlarded  his  encomiums  upon  himself  by  the  expression, 
"  On  my  conscience,  signore,  on  my  conscience,"  lifting  his  eyes 
solemnly  to  heaven  at  the  same  time,  and  laying  his  hand  on  his 
capacious  stomach,  as  if  it  were  the  shrine  in  which  that  inestim- 


AN  EXCURSION  THROUGH  ETRURIA.  205 

able  treasure  was  preserved.  This  last  attempt  to  "  suit  the  action 
to  the  word,"  considering  the  physical  developments  of  the  worthy 
Francesco,  set  fire  to  some  shavings  of  mirthfulness  which  were 
lying  in  the  vicinity  of  Lis  three  auditors,  and  both  the  Scotchman 
and  the  Yankee  laughed  so  noisy  that  a  policeman  came  up  to  see 
by  what  means  the  peace  and  quiet  of  the  Grand  Duke's  domin- 
ions were  disturbed  in  that  fashion. 

We  made  a  bargain  with  Francesco.  He  was  to  take  us  to 
Rome  in  four  days  and  a  half,  and  board  and  lodge  us  on  the  road, 
at  a  price  somewhat  above  three  times  the  sum  which  we  after- 
wards learned  he  was  in  the  habit  of  charging  in  ordinary  times — 
the  huonamano  (drink-money)  to  the  vetturino,  to  be  graduated 
under  the  dictation  of  our  own  generosity,  according  to  the  manner 
in  which  his  duties  were  performed.  Then  followed  the  filling  up 
and  signing  of  a  blank  instrument,  duly  attested  by  the  govern- 
ment, of  which  instrument  two  copies  were  made,  one  for  the  bene- 
fit of  each  party,  and  which  bound  all  concerned  with  ever  so  much 
minuteness  to  observe  the  terms  of  the  compact. 

The  day  of  our  departure  arrived,  Pietro,  the  vetturino,  was  in 
due  time  installed  over  us.  Now  Pietro  is  an  innocent,  red-faced 
square-built,  little  Italian,  who  prated  much  less  about  his  honor 
and  his  conscience  than  his  master — but  who,  nevertheless,  impress- 
ed us  quite  as  favorably. 

There  is  a  railway  from  Florence  to  Siena  ;  and  the  lights  and 
shadows  of  our  vetturino  ride  did  not  properly  commence  until  we 
reached  the  latter  place.  After  dinner  in  a  poor  inn  in  this  city, 
•we  committed  ourselves  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Pietro,  and  set 
out.  There  was  room  enough  in  our  carriage  for  half  a  dozen 
more  passengers,  so  that  we  had  an  enviable  amount  of  room. 
We  had  heard  shocking  stories  of  the  robberies  which  had  just 
taken  place  on  the  route.  A  prince  had  been  waylaid  and  robbed 
of  an  enormous  sum.  Another  party,  in  resisting  the  robbers,  had 
been  killed,  and  robbed  to  boot.  So  my  careful  Scottish  compan- 
ions had  purchased  two  huge  horse-pistols  in  Florence,  which  they 
duly  loaded  with  I  know  not  how  many  balls,  and  I'-ft  them  within 
arm's-reach  in  the  carriage.  However,  nobody  robbed  us,  nobody 
killed  us,  nobody  threatened   to  do  either.     True,  our  blood  was 


206  AN   EXCUKSION   THROUGH   ETRURIA. 

shed  pretty  fieely  on  the  road  ;  but  the  robbers  had  no  hand  in 
that. 

The  country  for  much  of  the  way  between  Siena  and  Rome  is 
rather  barren  of  interest.  The  people,  for  the  most  part,  are  rag- 
ged, dirty,  and  poverty-stricken.  Countless  beggars  assailed  us  at 
every  stopping-place,  and  they  ran  after  our  carriage  sometimes 
for  nearly  a  mile,  in  the  hopes  of  getting  a  few  coppers.  Donkeys 
abound  in  this  quarter,  and  so  poor  that  you  can  count  each  indi- 
vidual rib  with  perfect  facility.  Yet,  poor  and  apparently  inefficient 
as  these  beasts  are,  I  saw  one  of  them  carrying  a  great  overgrown 
man,  a  woman  of  the  same  type,  together  with  a  huge  bag,  from  a 
hole  in  one  end  of  which  protruded  a  head  that  must  have  belonged 
to  a  girl  in  her  teens,  while  the  opposite  end  exhibited  the  horns 
and  beard  of  a  veritable  live  goat.  A  favorite  mode  of  riding  in 
these  parts,  where  there  are  two  men  upon  a  donkey,  is  back  to 
back.  In  going  up  a  hill,  you  will  not  unfrequently  see  two  lazy 
fellows  riding  in  this  manner,  and  a  pedestrian  helping  himself  along 
by  grasping  the  poor  animal's  tail.  The  women  in  this  Etruscan 
district  are  about  as-  uninviting  in  their  personal  appearance  and 
habits,  as  any  specimen  of  feminine  humanity  which  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  in  Europe.  The  market  women,  who  carried 
vegetables  and  oranges  to  the  little  villages  and  larger  towns  on 
the  road,  had  a  very  masculine  mode  of  sitting  on  their  donkeys, 
which  would  excite  some  merriment  in  Broadway,  I  am  confident. 
These  women  belonged  to  the  better  class,  you  must  understand. 
The  females  of  the  lower  class,  the  real,  unmistakable  lazzaroni — 
were  the  most  consummate  vagabonds,  in  appearance.  And  such 
inveterate  beggars  !  They  begged  with  every  muscle  in  their  sun- 
burnt faces,  as  well  as  every  tone  and  semi-tone  in  their  squeaking 
voices.  When  we  threw  half-a-dozen  small  copper  pieces  into  a 
platoon  of  them,  as  we  did  once  in  a  while,  the  amazons  scrambled, 
and  fought,  and  pulled  each  other's  hair  (they  never  wear  a  bonnet, 
seldom  a  hat)  at  a  terrible  rate.  When  ^-e  did  not  give  them  any- 
thing, which  was  the  case  in  at  least  nine  instances  out  of  ten, 
they  poured  out  all  the  vials  of  their  Italian  wrath  upon  us,  and 
uttered  all  the  anathemas  in  their  vocabularies. 

The  first  night  after  leaving  Siena,  we  slept,  or  tried  to  sleep — 


AN   EXCURSION   THROUGH   ETRURIA.  207 

the  fleas  allowed  us  to  perform  that  somewhat  necessary  operation 
but  imperfectly — at  La  Scala.  Oue  of  the  most  notable  places  on 
the  route  is  Bolsena  This  little  village  is  pleasantly  situated  a  little 
distance  from  the  margin  of  a  lake  of  the  same  name.  It  is  on 
the  site  of  the  Etruscan  city  of  Volsinii.  Beautiful,  however,  as  is 
the  village,  with  the  adjacent  lake,  there  exists  here  the  most 
virulent  malaria,  and  it  is  dangerous  for  travelers,  and  even  for  the 
natives  who  are  engaged  in  cultivating  the  soil,  to  visit  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  the  marshes  around  the  lake  during  the  night.  It 
was  at  Bolsena  that,  according  to  the  chronicles  of  the  Romish 
Church,  was  performed  that  astonishing  miracle,  in  commemoration 
of  which,  Pope  Urban  IV.  instituted  the  festival  of  Corpus  Domini. 
The  miracle  they  tell  us  took  place  in  1263.  A  Bohemian  priest, 
officiating  in  this  place,  doubted  the  real  presence  of  Christ  in  the 
celebration  of  the  Eucharist.  He  went  one  day,  sceptical  as 
usual,  on  this  head,  to  the  church  of  Santa  Cristina  ;  and  while 
engaged  in  consecrating  the  host,  the  blood  flowed  from  the  wafer, 
and  dropped  upon  the  floor.  Of  course  he  was  convinced  of  his 
error  ;  and  hence  the  origin  of  the  festival  of  the  body  of  our  Lord. 
We  went  to  the  church  to  see  where  the  blood  fell.  A  monk  was 
holding  forth  with  great  earnestness  when  we  went  in.  After  he 
had  got  through,  we  were  conducted  to  a  dark  and  dirty  vault, 
and  pointed  to  a  space  covered  with  an  iron  grating,  which  we 
were  assured  was  the  identical  spot  where  the  blood  fell.  Upon 
our  expressing  a  slight  doubt  touching  the  miracle,  the  priest  de- 
clared that,  if  we  had  come  a  little  earlier — it  was  the  hour  of  the 
eveningf  twilio-ht — he  would  have  shown  us  the  blood. 

The  lake  is  now,  and  from  time  immemorial  has  been,  famous 
for  its  fine  fish.  Its  eels  are  puff"ed  by  the  muse  of  Dante,  who  tells 
us  that  Martin  IV.  testified  his  admiration  of  them,  by  eating  so 
many  at  once  that  they  were  the  means  of  his  death. 

Viterbo  is  another  place  of  interest.  It  is  situated  in  the  Papal 
dominions,  and  contains  a  population  of  some  fifteen  thousand. 
The  city  used  to  be  famous  for  its  fountains,  and  its  beautiful  wo- 
men. The  fountains  we  saw — the  beautiful  women  did  not  show 
themselves.  We  spent  a  short  time  in  the  cathedral,  dedicated  to 
St.  Lorenzo,  where  we  saw  some  fine  pictures.     It  was  at  the  high 


208  AN  EXCURSION  THROUGH  ETRURIA. 

altar  of  this  cathedral  that  Prince  Henry  of  England,  son  of  the 
Earl  of  Cornwall,  was  murdered  by  Guy  de  Montfort.  We  were 
shown  the  place,  too,  in  the  piazza  of  this  cathedral,  where  Adrian 
IV.  the  only  Englishman  who  ever  wore  the  tiara,  compelled  the 
Emperor  Frederick  Barbarossa,  to  hold  his  stirrup  while  he  dis- 
mounted from  his  mule. 

At  Ronciglione,  a  little  dirty  town,  containing  some  four  thousand 
inhabitants,  and  which  is  said  to  be  the  site  of  an  Etruscan  city, 
we  visited  a  cemetery  connected  with  a  monastery  of  Capuchins. 
Here  an  old  woman,  for  the  sum  of  two  francs,  showed  us  into  a 
room  filled  with  skulls  and  other  human  bones,  arranged  in  the 
most  fantastic  manner  imaginable.  It  was  a  Golgotha,  in  the 
strictest  sense  of  the  term.  Skulls  grinned  upon  us  from  every 
point.  The  old  crone  who  acted  as  our  conductor,  took  the  money 
in  a  vessel  formed  of  half  a  skull.  Fancy  chapels,  with  a  Madonna 
in  the  centre,  were  formed  by  an  ingenious  arrangement  of  innu- 
merable bones.  Even  the  Papal  arms  at  the  entrance  of  the  build- 
ing, were  represented  by  the  same  process.  Many  of  the  souls 
belonging  to  these  dismembered  bodies  are  supposed  to  be  in  pur- 
gatory still  ;  and  the  woman  assured  us  upon  her  honor,  that  the 
money  we  gave  her  would  be  conscientiously  devoted  to  masses  for 
their  oenefit.  It  would  not  be  her  fault,  she  added,  if  they  re- 
mained in  that  awful  place.  She  expressed  a  great  deal  of  sur- 
prise when  one  of  my  companions  told  her  there  was  no  purgatory 
in  England.  "  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  it,"  she  said,  "  for 
they  tell  me  that  there  are  multitudes  of  English  people  in  hell." 
Poor  old  woman !  her  gray  hair  and  shriveled  skin  indicate  that 
her  bones  will  soon  be  among  those  she  now  so  gaily  exhibits  for 
two  pauls  ;  and  her  soul — but  God  is  just,  and  she  is  a  poor  ig- 
norant creature.  To  whom  little  is  given,  of  such  will  but  little  be 
required. 

The  last  night  of  our  vetturino  excursion  we  slept  at  a  miserable 
inn,  at  a  place  which  I  will  not  dignify  by  giving  it  a  name,  and 
which  was  situated  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  crater  of  an  extinct 
volcano.  The  breakfast  provided  for  us  at  this  inn,  take  it  all  in 
all,  was  quite  a  curiosity,  and  to  one  inclined  to  philosophise  rather 
than  to  eat,  it  might  have  been  tolerably  acceptable.     To  us,  how- 


MUSIC   FROM   SHORE.  209 

ever,  who  were  hungry,  it  presented  rather  a  cheerless  aspect.  I 
assure  you  the  best  elements  in  it  were  a  dozen  native  figs,  in  eat- 
ing which  we  had  to  dispute  the  ground  with  worms. 

Reader,  if  it  should  ever  fall  to  your  lot  to  travel  between  Flor- 
ence and  Rome,  avoid  the  route  by  Siena.  ,JIeed  the  exhortation 
of  one  who  wishes  you  well,  and  go  by  the  way  of  Perugia.  Make 
a  note  of  that.  And  another  thing.  By  all  means  take  the  dili- 
gence, provided  it  will  take  you.  If  you  trust  to  a  vetturino,  you 
are  sure  to  be  conducted  to  the  most  miserable  inns,  where  you 
will  be  entertained  after  a  fashion  worse  than  (if  you  are  the  hu- 
mane man  I  take  you  to  be)  you  would  entertain  your  dog. 


MUSIC  FROM  SHORE. 

A  SOUND  comes  on  the  rising  breeze, 
A  s\veet  and  lovely  sound! 

Piercing  the  tumult  of  the  seas, 
That  wildly  dash'd  around. 

From  land,  from  sunny  land,  it  comes, 
From  hills  with  murmuring  trees, 

From  paths  by  still  and  happy  homes 
That  sweet  sound  on  the  breeze? 


Why  should  its  faint  and  passing  sigh 

Thus  bid  my  quick  pulse  leap? — 
No  part  in  earth's  glad  melody 

Is  mine  upon  the  deep. 

Yet  blessings,  blessings  on  the  spot 

Whence  those  rich  breathings  flow! 
Kind  hearts  although  they  know  me  not, 

Like  mine  must  beat  and  glow. 

And  blessings,  from  the  bark  that  roams 

O'er  solitary  seas, 
To  those  that  far,  in  happy  homes 

Give  sweet  sounds  to  the  breeze! 

Mrs.  Remans. 


210  THE   OLD   man's   WELCOME. 


THE  OLD  MAN'S  WELCOME. 


BY    T.    S.    ARTHUR. 


Came,  faint  old  man  !  arid  sit  awhile    Come,  rest  awhile.    'Twill  not  be  long 
Beside  our  cottage-door  ;  I      Ere  thy  faint  head  shall  know 

A  cup  of  water  from  the  spring,         |  A  deeper,  calmer,  better  rest, 
A  loaf  to  bless  the  poor,  |      Than  cometh  here  below 

We  give  with  cheerful  hearts,  for 
God 
Hath  given  us  of  His  store. 


Too  feeble  thou  for  daily  toil. 
Too  weak  to  earn  thy  bread — 

For  the  weight  of  many,  many  years 
Lies  heavy  on  thy  head — 

A  wanderer,  Want  thy  weary  feet 
Hath  to  our  cottage  led. 


When  God,  who  loveth  every  one, 
Shall  call  thee  hence  to  go. 


Heaven  bless  thee  in  thy  wander- 
ings I 

Wherever  they  may  be. 
And  make  the  ears  of  every  one 

Attentive  to  thy  plea  : 
A  double  blessing  will  be  theirs, 

Who  kindly  turn  to  thee. 


SECRET  OF  HAPPINESS. 

AN  Italian  bishop,  who  had  struggled  through  many  difficulties 
without  repining,  and  been  much  opposed  without  manifest- 
ing impatience,  being  asked  by  a  friend  to  communicate  the  se- 
cret of  his  being  always  so  happy,  replied  :  "  It  consists  in  a  sin- 
gle thing,  and  that  is,  making  a  right  use  of  my  eyes."  His  friend, 
in  surprise,  begged  him  to  e.xplain  his  meaning.  "  Most  willingly," 
replied  the  bishop.  "  la  whatsoever  state  I  am,  I  first  of  all  look 
up  to  heaven,  and  remember  that  my  great  business  is  to  get  there. 
1  then  look  down  upon  earth,  and  call  to  mind  how  small  a  space 
I  shall  soon  fill  in  it.  I  then  look  abroad  in  the  world,  and  see 
what  multitudes  are,  in  all  respects,  less  happy  than  myself.  And^ 
thus  I  learn  where  true  happiness  is  placed,  where  all  my  cares 
mu.-st  end,  and  how  little  reason  I  ever  had  to  murmur,  or  to  be 
otherwise  than  thankful.  And  to  live  in  this  spirit  is  to  be  al- 
ways happy." 


THE    OLD    MANS    WKLCoMK. 


THE   COCOA  TKEE. 


218 


THE  COCOA  TEEE. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENXH,  BY  LAURA  LOVELL. 


.'/''' R  were  on  our  way  to  the  Mnrquesas,  and  our  ship, 
beneath  the  burning  sky  of  the  tropics,  was  seek- 
ing those  sandy  shores  surrounded  by  reefs, 
where  the  Indian  Ocean  sees  daily  the  smallest  of  ani- 
malculae,  the  imperceptible  coral  polype,  encroach  upon 
its  shores,  contract  its  immense  basin,  and  raise  against 
the  fury  of  the  tempest  progressive  and  immovable  bar- 
riers. We  soon  discovered  one  of  those  numerous  little  islands 
which  these  microscopic  animals  have  caused  to  emerge  from  the 
bosom  of  the  waters,  and  which  they  enlarge  daily,  till  they  form, 
perhaps,  a  continent.  Already  this  island,  which  probably  was  for- 
merly only  a  rock  hid  beneath  the  waves,  was  adorned  with  smil- 
ing verdure,  promising  the  naturalists  of  our  expedition  a  rich 
harvest  of  new  plants.  We  let  down  the  boat  and  landed.  But 
alas  !  the  hopes  of  our  savans  were  disappointed,  for  all  the  floral 
wealth  of  the  country  was  limited  to  a  few  species  of  grass,  and 
some  ferns,  and  the  groves  which  we  saw  were  composed  of  a  single 
species  of  tree.  The  animals  of  this  newly-discovered  land  were 
also  few,  for  we  perceived  only  some  seals  crawling  with  difficulty 
over  the  rocks  of  the  reefs,  and  some  bats  as  large  as  rabbits,  sus- 
pended by  the  hind  claws  to  the  long  and  stiff  leaves  of  the  trees ; 
the  birds  were  all  aquatic,  and  we  distinguished  among  them  sea- 
gulls, divers,  and  wild  ducks. 

I  asked  of  our  botanist,  that  is  to  say,  the  surgeon,  what  were 
those  ungraceful,  crooked,  meagre  trees,  half  overthrown,  and  sup- 
ported only  by  resting  on  each  other. 
"  They  are  cocoa-trees,"  replied  he. 
T  was  stupefied  with  astonishment. 


214  THE   COCOA   TREE. 


"  Come,  doctor,"  said  I,  "  I  see  that  you  wish  to  mystify  me. 
What !  those  ugly  yellowish  tufts  at  the  extremity  of  those  slender 
and  crooked  bundles,  the  cocoa-trees  so  magnificent  in  the  descrip- 
tions of  voyagers  and  in  the  decorations  of  the  opera  ?" 

"  Nothing  else." 

"  What !  Is  that  the  tree  which,  according  to  botanists,  unites 
elegance  with  majesty  ;  whose  trunk  or  stipe  rises  upright  like  a 
column  ;  whose  verdant  head  waves  gracefully  in  the  air  at  a  height 
of  eighty  or  a  hundred  feet  ?" 

"  Absolutely  that,  making  allowances  that  the  height  is  exag- 
gerated by  one  half,  that  the  column  is  crooked  and  inclining,  and 
that  the  verdant  head  is  a  little  the  color  of  hay. 

"  As  you  see,  my  dear  sir,  the  trunk  or  stipe  is  neither  upright 
nor  columnar  as  the  botanists  say,  but  often  crooked,  and  always 
bent  or  inclining ;  at  least  I  have  always  found  it  so,  and  I  have 
traversed  every  land  between  the  tropics  where  the  cocoa-tree  can 
grow.  The  trunk  ordinarily  attains  forty  feet  in  height,  rarely 
fifty,  and  never  more.  It  is  terminated  by  a  sort  of  umbrella  com- 
posed of  from  twelve  to  twenty  pinnate  leaves,  with  ensiform  and 
horizontal  leaflets,  and  each  leaf  is  usually  eight  or  nine  feet  in 
length,  sometimes  ten  or  twelve,  and  even  more.  At  the  internal 
base  of  the  lower  ones,  may  be  seen  large  spathes  or  oval  sacks, 
which  give  passage  to  a  spadix,  or  branch  or  bunch  of  flowers, 
to  which  succeed  fruits  usually  of  the  size  of  the  head  of  a 
man." 

The  surgeon  stopped  there,  and  as  our  disappointed  naturalists 
were  in  very  bad  humor,  as  especially  I  had  taken  on  my  own  ao 
count  a  horrible  antipathy  to  the  cocoa-trees,  from  the  fact  that  I 
had  traveled  four  thousand  leagues  to  see  one,  we  prepared  to  re- 
enter our  boat,  and  return  to  the  vessel.  Suddenly  our  geologist 
began  to  pufl"  like  a  hippopotamus  ;  he  seized  the  arm  of  the  doc- 
tor with  a  sort  of  feverish  agitation,  and  pointed  to  a  little  pillar 
of  smoke  which  rose  above  a  group  of  palm-trees.  Now  you  must 
know  that  our  geologist  was  a  zealous  partisan  of  the  theory  of  the 
formation  of  the  globe  by  fire,  &c. 

"  I  tell  you,  doctor,"  exclaimed  he,  as  soon  as  his  agitation 
would  allow  him  to  speak,  "  these  islands  of  the  Southern  sea,  like 


THE   COCOA   TREE.  215 


all  the  continents  and  all  the  mountains  of  the  globe,  evidently  owe 
their  origin  to  the  central  fire  which  has  launched  them  from  the 
bosom  of  the  waters  ;  all  these  islands. are  volcanoes,  and  there  is 
smoke,  an  immense  column  of  smoke,  rising  from  an  enormous 
crater." 

The  geologist  immediately  turned  his  back  upon  the  sea,  and 
began  to  run  towards  the  crater.  We  followed  him  as  well  as 
we  could. 

"  You  see,"  said  he,  turning  from  time  to  time  towards  the 
doctor,  "here  are  your  labors  of  the  polypes  and  your  banks 
of  coral  entirely  at  fault  against  the  evidence  of  my  volcanoes, 
and—" 

The  geologist  stood  as  if  stupefied,  for  we  had  reached  the  grove 
and  found  there  no  crater,  but  simply  a  little  fire  of  dried  grass, 
on  which  a  family  of  Indians  were  cooking  shell-fish  recently  taken 
from  the  bosom  of  the  sea.  Our  sudden  apparition  alarmed  these 
poor  people  a  little ;  but  as  our  surgeon  spoke  the  language  of 
this  Archipelago  very  well,  he  soon  re-assured  them.  We  gave 
them  some  trifles,  and  in  return  they  invited  us  to  share  their 
repast,  which  we  gladly  accepted. 

They  ofi"ered  us  first,  to  refresh  us,  a  cool,  mild,  saccharine,  lim- 
pid liquor,  something  like  milk,  but  much  more  agreeable. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  asked  I  of  the  doctor. 

"  It  is  the  milk  of  the  cocoa-nut." 

"  Ah !" 

They  afterwards  served  up  to  us  a  white  substance,  of  a  some- 
what honey  transparency,  a  little  hard,  bearing  a  similarity  to  an 
almond.  I  ate  several  pieces  with  much  appetite,  then  asked  what 
it  was. 

"  It  is  the  meat  of  the  cocoa-nut,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Ah  !" 

An  instant  afterwards,  an  Indian  woman  brought  a  black  pitcher, 
polished,  shining,  carved,  though  somewhat  rudely  ;  it  was  of  a 
sort  of  wood,  very  hard,  very  solid,  and  resembling  ebony. 

"  It  is  the  shell  of  the  cocoa-nut,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  ihcbe 
ibianders  have  no  other  dishes." 

-  Bah  1" 


216  THE  COCOA  TREE. 


Then  they  filled  this  cup  with  an  excellent  spirituous  liquor, 
which  I  believe  would  intoxicate  a  man  as  well  as  champagne. 

"  To  obtain  the  palm-wine,"  said  the  doctor,  "  they  cut  the  spathe 
of  the  cocoa-nut  as  soon  as  it  is  formed  ;  a  limpid  sap  issues  from 
it,  which  is  left  to  ferment  during  twenty-four  hours  and  becomes 
this  liquor." 

Then  they  brought  on  the  grass,  which  served  as  a  table-cloth,  a 
large  basket  woven  so  closely  and  with  so  much  art,  that  it  would  have 
held  water.  This  species  of  plate  contained  an  enormous  stewed 
cabbage,  with  an  excellent  sauce  made  of  butter  and  milk.  I  found 
this  dish  very  palatable,  and  ate  of  it  with  the  greatest  pleasure, 
remarking  meanwhile  that  the  leaves  of  this  cabbage  were  longer 
and  thinner  than  usual,  and  that  its  flavor  was  more  delicate. 

"  The  dish  which  contains  this  stew,"  said  the  doctor,  "  is  made 
with  the  flexible  sides  of  the  leaves  of  the  cocoa-tree  ;  the  cabbage 
is  no  other  than  the  terminal  bud  of  this  tree,  cut  while  it  is  yet 
in  the  herbaceous  state  ;  the  sauce  is  composed  of  an  emulsion  of 
the  cocoa-nut  before  its  maturity. 

"  This  is  a  singular  tree  !"  exclaimed  I. 

The  last  dish  which  was  served  up  to  us  consisted  of  some  lob- 
sters cooked  in  sea-water,  and  dressed  with  oil  and  vinegar. 

"  How  do  you  like  this  oil  ?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  It  is  very  good,"  replied  I ;  "  better  than  most  olive  oil." 

"  It  is  the  oil  of  the  cocoa  ;  and  what  do  you  think  of  this  vine- 
gar ?" 

"  It  is  very  strong,  and  has  a  good  taste." 

"  It  is  the  milk  of  the  cocoa-nut  soured  in  the  sun.  But  hold, 
here  is  our  host  oflfering  you  a  bit  of  sugar  candy  to  sweeten  you, 
and  this  sugar  is  the  sap  of  the  cocoa-tree,  boiled  and  crystallized, 
or  rather  dried." 

"  What !  has  this  tree  furnished  all  our  dinner  ?" 

"  Better  than  that ;  it  is  with  the  fibres  of  its  trunk  that  those 
pretty  mats  on  which  we  are  seated  are  made.  The  coquetish 
hat  of  our  hostess,  which  you  may  have  taken  for  straw,  is  woven 
of  the  young  leaves  of  this  tree.  The  mantle  of  the  husband  and 
the  dress  of  the  wife  were  woven  of  the  husk  which  envelopes  the 
nut  at  its  maturity ;  the  matress  on  which  they  lie,  and  the  soft 


A  KEMARKABLE  TELESCOPE.  217 

substance  which  fills  it,  the  sails  of  his  canoe,  the  line  with  which 
he  fishes,  and  a  thousand  other  articles  of  furniture  are  of  the  same 
material.  The  palisades  which  enclose  his  little  garden,  the  frame 
of  his  cabin,  are  made  of  the  cocoa-wood  ;  the  roof,  impenetrable 
to  the  sun,  wind,  and  rain,  consist  of  its  leaves  skilfully  interwoven. 
With  the  filaments  at  the  base  of  the  leaves  and  the  branches,  the 
Indian  manufactures  cables  and  lighter  cords,  more  supple  and 
durable  than  those  of  hemp.  Finally,  the  parasol  which  our  hosts 
placed  over  your  head  to  shelter  you  from  a  burning  sun,  was  en- 
tirely composed  of  the  divers  parts  of  this  valuable  tree. 

"  So  the  Indians  cultivate  it  with  great  care.  As  it  has  no 
branches,  and  produces  no  scions,  it  can  be  multiplied  only  by  the 
seed,  and  for  this  purpose  they  choose  the  largest  and  healthiest 
nuts,  with  an  unbroken  husk,  plant  them  as  near  as  possible  to 
the  sea-shore,  or  by  the  side  of  any  other  brackish  water ;  mean- 
while they  grow  equally  well  in  all  kinds  of  earth,  provided  it  be 
moist,  and  especially  where  the  precaution  is  taken  to  lay  a  bed 
of  salt  at  the  bottom  of  the  hole  in  which  the  nut  is  placed. 
While  the  tree  is  young,  the  Indians  water  it  freely  with  salt 
water,  and  every  year,  when  it  has  become  productive,  throw  at  its 
foot  a  certain  quantity  of  salt.  Between  the  tropics,  the  cocoa-nut 
germinates  in  fifteen  or  twenty  days." 

The  firing  of  a  cannon  warned  us  to  return  on  board  our  ship. 
As  I  passed,  I  threw  a  last  glance  on  the  cocoa-trees  on  the  shore  ; 
but  as  my  prejudices  had  been  removed,  I  found  them  taller,  more 
upright,  more  elegant,  in  fine,  adorned  with  all  the  utility  I  had 
just  discovered  in  them.  These  trees  are  the  providence  of  the 
islands  of  the  Indian  Archipelago. 


^ (^^ 

A  EEMAEKABLE  TELESCO'PE. 

"  Do  you  see  that  church  V^  said  Sir  Frederick  Flood,  to  a  friend. 
"  No,  it  is  scarcely  discernible,  and  I  am  short-sighted/'  '*  Ay — I 
know  it — it  is  a  mile  ofl';  but  when  I  look  at  it  through  my  excel- 
lent new  telescope,  it  brings  it  so  close,  I  can  hear  the  organ  play- 


mg." 


VOL.  V.  10 


218 


THE  GAZELLE,  OR  ANTELOPE. 


THE  GAZELLE,  OR  ANTELOPE. 

OF  the  antelope,  or  gazelle,  there  are  several  species.  They  have 
all  some  resemblance  to  the  deer  family,  and  in  some  of  their 
habits  are  very  much  like  the  goat  tribe.  This  is  the  same  animal 
which  in  the  Bible  is  called  the  roe.  The  horns  of  the  gazelle, 
which  are  long  and  slender,  are  annulated,  or  ringed.  Of  ail  ani- 
mals in  the  world,  this  one  has,  probably,  the  most  beautiful  eyes. 
They  are  exceedingly  brilliant,  and  yet  present  such  an  expression 
of  meekness,  softness,  and  gentleness,  that  they  often  figure  in  the 
lays  of  the  Eastern  poets.  Moore,  too,  you  may  recollect,  alludes 
to  this  circumstance,  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  all  his  lyrics  : 


'*  I  never  nursed  a  dear  gazelle, 

To  glad  me  -with,  its   soft,   blue  eye, 
But  when  it  came   to  know  me  well, 
And  love  me,  it  was  sure  to  die." 


THE  GAZELLE,  OR  ANTELOPE.  '219 

The  gazelle  of  the  mountain  is  more  attractive  than  the  gazelle 
of  the  plain.  In  general,  the  flesh  of  these  animals  is  excellent,  as 
they  feed  on  the  tender  shoots  of  trees.  Some  form  herds  of  two 
or  three  thousand,  while  others  keep  in  small  troops  of  five  or  six. 
The  chase  of  these  animals  is  a  favorite  diversion  among  the  eastern 
nations  ;  and  the  accounts  that  are  given  of  it  supply  ample  proofs 
of  the  swiftness  of  the  antelope  tribe.  The  greyhound,  the  fleetest 
of  dogs,  is  usually  outrun  by  them  ;  and  the  sportsman  is  obliged 
to  have  recourse  to  the  falcon,  which  is  trained  to  the  work,  for 
seizing  on  the  animal,  and  impeding  its  motion,  that  the  dogs  may 
thus  have  an  opportunity  of  overtaking  it.  In  India  and  Persia,  a 
sort  of  leopard  is  made  use  of  in  the  chase  ;  and  this  animal  takes 
its  prey  not  by  swiftness  of  foot,  but  by  its  astonishing  springs, 
which  are  similar  to  those  of  the  antelope  ;  and  yet  if  the  leopard 
should  fail  in  its  first  attempt,  the  game  escapes.  The  fleetness  of 
this  animal  has  been  proverbial  in  the  country  which  it  inhabited 
from  the  earliest  times.  The  speed  of  Asahel  is  beautifully  com- 
pared to  it. 

Professor  Pallas,  in  his  travels  through  different  provinces  of 
Russia  and  northern  Asia,  has  described  the  method  of  hunting 
the  antelope,  which  is  the  principal  amusement  of  the  Tonguses, 
who  inhabit  the  heaths  of  Daouria  beyond  the  lake  Baikal.  They 
choose  for  this  purpose  the  level  and  open  tracts,  situated  near  a 
mountain,  a  river,  or  a  forest.  In  autumn,  at  which  season  their 
horses  are  most  vigorous,  they  form  companies  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  or  two  hundred  hunters,  all  on  horseback,  attended  by  led 
horses.  Each  has  a  trained  dog  ;  and  they  are  armed  with  bows 
and  arrows.  This  chase  commonly  lasts  several  days.  When  ar- 
rived at  the  rendezvous,  they  send  before  three  or  four  s1iar}>sighted 
huntsmen,  to  get  a  vie"w  of  the  game  from  the  heights  or  moun- 
tains, who  stop  to  wait  for  their  companions,  as  soon  as  they  per- 
ceive the  antelopes.  When  the  troop  comes  in  sight,  the  scouts 
make  sio-nals  to  them,  or  by  some  evolutions  of  their  horses,  sig- 
nify the  place  in  which  the  antelopes  feed,  and  the  course  that  must 
be  taken  in  order  to  come  up  with  them.  Tiie  troop  then  breaks 
into  several  divisions,  and  the  hunters  separate  at  some  distance 
from  each  other,  in  order  to  form   a  gieat  ring.     Those  on  the 


220  LIVING   WITHOUT  A  DESIGN. 

wings  advance  toward  the  pasturage  of  the  herd,  and  endeavor  to 
conceal  themselves  behind  the  heights  till  the  animals  are  sur- 
rounded. 

The  ring  then  closes.  When  the  antelopes,  at  the  approach  of 
the  hunters,  attempt  to  escape,  the  men  rush  on  them,  chase  them 
from  one  party  to  another,  terrifying  them  with  their  shouts  and 
the  whistling  of  their  arrows,  which,  for  that  purpose,  are  furnished 
with  a  button  of  bone,  perforated  beneath  the  head.  In  this  man- 
ner they  kill  all  that  they  can  reach.  This  chase  is  more  successful 
when  the  scene  of  it  lies  near  a  river  or  mountainous  forest,  as 
the  antelopes  or  heath-goats  never  take  to  the  water,  though  long 
and  furiously  harassed,  but  rather  strive  to  escape  by  sudden  and 
vast  leaps  through  the  troop  of  their  pursuers.  They  are,  mostly, 
equally  shy  of  forests.  They  are  no  sooner  hunted  into  a  wood, 
than  they  are  bewildered  among  the  trees  so  as  not  to  be  able  to 
move  a  hundred  paces,  but  run  their  heads  against  every  tree,  and 
soon  fall  breathless. 

In  some  other  countries,  the  following  method  is  adopted  for 
taking  the  gazelle  :  A  tame  one  is  trained  to  join  those  of  its  own 
species,  whenever  it  comes  near  them.  When  the  hunter  discovers 
a  herd  of  these  animals  together,  he  puts  a  noose  around  the  horns 
of  the  tame  gazelle  in  such  a  way,  that  if  any  of  the  wild  ones 
touch  it,  they  get  immediately  entangled.  As  soon  as  the  tame  ani- 
mal approaches  the  herd,  the  males  advance  to  oppose  him,  and  in 
butting  with  their  horns,  are  caught  in  the  noose.  Finding  them- 
selves entangled,  they  make  a  desperate  struggle  for  liberty,  though 
all  in  vain  ;  for  the  hunter  is  crouching  not  far  off,  and  he  imme- 
diately falls  upon  them  and  secures  them. 


LIYING  WITHOUT  A  DESIGN. 

There  are  some  that  live  without  any  design  at  all,  and  only 
pass  in  the  world  like  straws  on  a  river  ;  they  do  not  go,  but  are 
carried.     The  world  could  get  along  very  well  without  them. 


SCOTTISH    PERSEVERAN'CE. 


t 

221 


SCOTTISH  PERSEVERANCE. 


'^---K..^' 


PERSON  in  the  west  of  Scotland,  who  had  engao-pd 
in  the  manufacture  of  a  certain  description  of  goods, 
then  recently  introduced  into  that  part  of  tlie  coun- 
try, found  it  necessary,  or  conjectured  it  might  be 
^  <-^   profitable,  to  estabHsh  a  permanent  connection  with  some 

^■^  respectable  mercantile  house  in  London.  With  this  design 
he  packed  up  a  quantity  of  goods,  equipped  himself  for  the  journey, 
and  departed.  He  traveled  on  foot  to  the  metropolis.  Upon  his 
arrival,  he  made  diligent  inquiry  as  to  those  who  were  likely  to 
be  his  best  customers  ;  and  accordingly,  proceeded  to  call  upon  one 
of  the  most  opulent  drapers,  with  whom  he  resolved  to  establish  a 
regular  correspondence.  When  Saunders  entered  the  draper's  shop, 
he  found  it  crowded  with  purchasers,  and  the  clerks  all  bustling 
busily  at  the  back  of  the  counter,  handing  out  their  respective 
wares  to  their  respective  customers.  Saunders  waited  what  he 
thought  a  reasonable  length  of  time,  then  laid  down  his  pack,  his 
bonnet  and  staff  upon  the  counter,  and  inquired,  in  his  broad  Scotch 
dialect,  for  "  the  head  o'  the  hoose."  One  of  the  clerks  asked  what 
he  wanted.     The  Scotchman's  answer  was,  as  usual,  a  question  : 

"  Want  ye  aught  i'  my  line,  sir  ?" 

"  No  1"  was  the  prompt  reply  of  the  person  interrogated,  who 
accompanied  his  negative  with  a  look  of  contempt  for  tlie  mean  ap- 
pearance of  the  itinerant  Scotch  merchant. 

"  Wull  ye  no  take  a  look  o'  the  gudes,  sir  ?"  was  Saunders'  next 
query. 

"  No,  not  at  all ;  I  have  not  time,"  replied  the  clerk,  •'  Take 
them  away — take  them  away." 

"  Ye'll  albins  (perhaps)  find  them  worth  your  while  ;  and  I 
doubt  na  but  ye'll  buy,"  said  Saunders,  as  he  coolly  proceeded  to 
untie  and  unstrip  his  burden. 


222  SCOTTISH   PERSEVERANCE. 

"  Go  away — go  away  !"  was  repeated  half  a  dozen  times  with 
great  impatience  ;  but  the  persevering  Scotchman  still  persisted. 

"  Get  along,  you  old  Scotch  fool !"  cried  the  clerk  completely 
out  of  temper,  as  he  pushed  the  already  exposed  contents  of  the 
pack  off  the  counter  ;  "  get  along." 

Saunders  looked  up  in  the  individual's  face  with  a  wide  mouth 
and  an  enlarged  pair  of  eyes,  then  looking  down  to  his  estate  that 
lay  scattered  among  his  feet,  looked  up  again,  and  exclaimed, 

"  And  wull  ye  no  really  buy  aught  ?  But  ye  dinna  ken  ;  ye 
haena  seen  the  gudes  yet ;"  and  so  saying,  he  slowly  gathered  them 
up,  and  replaced  them  on  the  counter. 

"  Get  out  of  the  shop,  sir !"  was  the  peremptory  and  angry  com- 
mand that  followed  his  last  appeal. 

Saunders,  with  great  gravity  and  self-possession,  said,  "  Are  ye 
in  earnest,  fiien'  ?" 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  was  the  reply  ;  and  that  reply  was  succeeded 
by  an  unequivocal  proof  of  sincerity  on  the  part  of  the  person  who 
made  it,  when  he  picked  up  Saunders'  bonnet,  and  whirled  it  out 
into  the  street. 

The  cool  Scotchman  stalked  deliberately  and  gravely  in  quest  of 
his  Stewarton  "  head-gear."  After  giving  it  two  or  three  hearty 
slaps  upon  the  wall  without  the  door,  he  re-entered,  very  com- 
posedly wringing  the  moisture  out  of  it,  looked  over  to  the  per- 
son who  had  served  him  so,  and  said,  with  a  genuine  Scotch  smile, 

"  Yon  was  but  an  ill-faured  turn,  man  ;  ye'll  surely  tak  a  look 
o'  the  gudes  noo  I" 

The  master-draper  himself,  who  was  standing  all  the  while  in 
the  shop,  admiring  the  patience  and  perseverance  of  the  old  man, 
and  feeling  a  little  compunction  for  the  unceremonious  manner  in 
which  he  had  been  treated,  examined  the  contents  of  the  pack, 
found  them  to  be  articles  he  stood  in  need  of,  purchased  them, 
ordered  an  additional  regular  supply,  and  thus  laid  the  foundation 
of  an  opulent  mercantile  house,  that  has  now  flourished  for  some 
ofeneratioES. 


nature's  woeds  to  her  pupil.  225 


NATUEE'S  "WOEDS  TO  HEE  PUPIL. 

By  a  river  I  sat  in  the  sunset. 

What  murmured  the  river  to  thee? 
"Let  thy  life's  young  tide  in  the  light  of  love  glide 
To  the  sea  of  eternity." 

A  tree  o'er  my  head  was  waving. 
And  what  said  the  old  oak  tree  ? 
"  Learn,  learn  of  my  shade  the  weary  to  aid 
With  comfort  and  sympathy." 

A  bird  on  a  bough  was  singing. 
What  carolled  the  merry  bird  ? 
"  Dear  child,  dost  thou  sing  hymns  of  praise  to  thy  King, 
With  infancy's  lisping  word  ?" 

A  bee  came  around  me  buzzing. 
And  what  said  the  busy  bee? 
"  O,  let  not  youth's  day  pass  in  idling  away ; 
Or  age  will  be  sad  to  thee." 

A  rose  at  my  side  was  blooming. 
What  whispered  the  gentle  rose  ? 
"  With  the  heart's  fre.sh  bloom  smile  away  all  the  gloom 
That  care  o'er  the  hearth-stone  throws." 

A  star  came  out  in  the  twilight. 
What  word  had  the  twinkling  star  ? 
"May  peace  on  thee  shine  from  the  glory  divine, 

Where  God  and  the  angels  are  !"  l.  l. 


GEEAT  AND  SMALL  MINDS. 

Somebody  has  said  that  our  minds  are  like  ill-hung  vehicles. 
When  they  have  little  to  carry,  they  raise  a  prodigious  clatter ; 
when  heavily  laden,  they  neither  creak  nor  rumble. 

VOL.  V.  10*  MT 


226 


ADVENTURES  WITH  GHOSTS. 


ADYENTUEES  "WITH  GHOSTS. 


^ 


Y  friend  Mrs.  Hall,  who  knows  so  well  the  way  to 
the  young  heart,  has  kindly  furnished  me  with 
two  stories  about  fancied  ghosts,  which  she  de- 
sires raav  be  presented  to  my  readers  ;  and  here  they  are, 
in  the  identical  words  of  this  lady's  manuscript : 

Many  years  ago,  when  I  was  quite  young,  I  was  sit- 
tincr  late  one  evening,  with  my  mother  and  sister,  by  a  cheerful  fire 
in  the  parlor,  (it  was  before  stoves  and  grates  were  as  much  used  as 
now,)  quietly  knitting  and  reading,  as  has  been  my  habit  from 
cliildhood.  Out  of  the  parlor  opened  a  large  dining-room.  Beyond 
that  was  a  room  for  cooking,  and  still  farther  back,  an  entry-way 
and  wood  room.  My  mother  took  a  light,  and  rose  to  retire.  She 
was  passing  into  the  dining-room,  when  she  saw,  standing  in  the 
door-way  of  the  back  room,  which  was  open,  a  man,  holding  what 
appeared  at  that  distance,  and  by  the  dim  light,  to  be  a  knife. 

"Job!"  said  my  mother,  calling  the  name  of  a  member  of  the 
family,  who  had  been  out  during  the  evening. 
But  Job  made  no  answer. 

*'  Job  !"  said  my  mother,  a  little  startled,  and  raising  her  voice. 
But  Job,  or  whoever  else  it  might  be,  maintained  a  rigid  silence. 
My  mother  was  far  from  being  a  superstitious  woman,  but  she  had 
a  great  horror  of  thieves  and  robbers,  and  for  aught  she  knew,  this 
mysterious  stranger  might  be  one,  or  he  might  be  either  drunk 
or  crazy.  She  therefore  deemed  it  prudent  to  retrace  her  steps,  and 
call  up  my  father,  who  had  retired,  before  making  any  further  ac- 
quaintance with  him.  Now,  then,  we  formed  quite  a  procession — 
my  venerable  father  in  the  advance,  my  mother  and  sister  next, 
and  I  in  the  rear ;  for,  though  my  heart  beat  violently,  I  could  not 
think  of  staying  away  when  there  was  so  much  risk. 


AJ) VENTURES    WITH   GHOSTS.  227 


My  father  spoke  in  tones  far  more  commanding  than  those  of  my 

mother.  No  answer  came,  but  still  the  person  stood,  till,  as  we 
came  cautiously  near  him,  he  vanished,  and,  what  was  most  singu- 
lar, the  door,  which  we  had  all  seen  distinctly  to  be  open,  was 
noiselessly  closed.  We  all  marched  back  ;  but  in  turning  again 
toward  the  door,  we  saw  the  apparition  standing  as  before. 

"  It  must  have  been  some  shadow,"  exclaimed  my  sister  ;  and 
she  set  about  searching  for  the  cause  of  so  singular  an  appearanc*^, 
which,  although  there  had  been  a  light  in  the  parlor  scores  of 
times  with  the  doors  all  open,  had  never  appeared  before.  Our 
light  was  put  out.  Still  it  was  there.  We  thought  it  must  shine 
from  the  parlor  ;  but  the  only  lamp  left  there  was  far  back,  and 
not  even  a  ray  of  light  showed  in  the  dining-room  or  porch  when 
the  one  we  had  been  using  w^as  extinguished.  Again  and  again 
we  examined  the  apparition,  and  it  always  remained  till  we  ap- 
proached it  nearly  wnth  a  light,  and  then  it  vanished. 

This  certainly  might  have  answered  to  many  a  superstitious  person 
for  a  ghost,  and  kept  him  or  her  awake  all  night,  dreading  some 
terrible  misfortune,  of  which  this  dark  apparition  was  the  forerun- 
ner. I  confess  to  have  been  considerably  frightened  myself,  but  my 
mother  and  sister,  knowing  that  the  appearance  must  proceed  from 
some  natural  cause,  did  not  rest  till  they  ascertained  what  that 
cause  was.  The  light  did  not  indeed  shine  out  at  the  door,  but  it 
happened  to  be  placed  just  where  it  shone  very  brightly  upon  a 
large  glass.  The  reflection  passed  through  the  whole  length  of  the 
house,  and  struck  upon  the  farthest  door.  The  person  who  was 
passing  out  produced  the  dark  shadow,  and  the  light  held  in  the 
hand  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  a  knife  in  the  dim  distance. 
The  light  from  the  glass  was  precisely  the  size  of  the  door,  and 
even  after  we  had  ascertained  the  cause,  the  illusion  w^as  so  per- 
fect that  we  could  scarcely  believe  the  evidence  of  our  own  senses. 
My  terrors  were  at  an  end,  and  I  went  to  bed  with  the  sage  reflec- 
tion that  many  a  ghost  of  huge  dimensions,  if  subject  to  close  in- 
vestigation, might  be  found  to  be  caused  by  a  rejlection. 

Some  fifty  years  ago  there  lived  in  an  old  town  in  the  north 
of  Massachusetts,  which  you  would  now  hardly  recognize — for  il 
has  changed  its  name  as  well  as  appearance — a  clergyman,  whoso 


228  ADVENTURES   WITH   GHOSTS. 

white  head  has  long  since  been  laid  in  the  grave.  He  had  one 
little  daughter,  whom  we  will  call  Lilian.  When  Lily  was  about 
seven  years  old,  her  parents  went  to  a  distant  part  of  the  State,  to 
'be  absent  several  weeks,  taking  the  younger  children  with  them, 
and  leaving  Lily  and  a  brother  older  in  the  care  of  a  domestic, 
to  whom  many  charges  were  given,  to  take  especial  care  of  the 
children,  and  to  conduct  everything  in  a  quiet  and  orderly  manner. 
Jeanette  made  fair  promises  ;  but  scarcely  were  the  old  chaise 
and  ambling  pony,  which  bore  the  minister  and  his  wife,  out  of 
sight,  ere  the  deceitful  girl  began  to  plan,  not  how  to  take  care  of 
the  interests  of  her  employers,  and  use  her  time,  which  belonged  to 
them,  to  the  best  advantage,  but  how  she  could  find  the  most  sport 
for  herself  and  her  giddy  companions.  The  information  was  soon 
circulated,  (or  perhaps  had  been  before,)  that  Jeanette  would  now 
be  "  at  home"  to  all  her  young  associates  ;  and  then  such  throngs 
as  were  coming  and  going  ;  such  dancing  of  reels  and  such  play- 
ing of  plays  ;  such  shouts  of  laughter  and  screams  of  fun,  the  quiet 
old  parsonage  had  never  seen  before.  From  morning  until  evening, 
and  from  evening  far  into  the  night,  the  revels  were  kept  up,  very 
much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  staid  and  discreet  little  Lilian.  She 
was  shocked  to  see  even  the  tidy  "  spare  room"  appropriated  to  the 
company,  and  wild  girls,  with  rude  curiosity,  peeping  into  the 
drawers  of  her  mother's  best  bureau.  Even  her  father's  study, 
which  she  scarcely  dared  enter  on  tiptoe,  was  not  secure  from  in- 
trusion ;  and  to  her  the  coarse  feet  of  rough  young  men,  and  the 
senseless  tittering  of  giddy  girls  in  this  room,  seemed  like  desecra- 
tion. She  saw  that  tlie  stores  of  provision  left  by  her  careful 
mother  were  rapidly  disappearing  before  the  keen  appetites  of 
Jeanette's  visitors.  She  saw  a  great  deal  that  she  knew  her  pa- 
rents would  not  approve,  and,  as  she  was  a  reflecting  as  well  as 
an  observing  little  girl,  she  strongly  suspected  that  there  were  worse 
things  done  when  she  was  sent  away  on  some  trifling  pretence,  or 
purposely  made  angry,  that  she  might  absent  herself.  She  was 
very  sure,  too,  that  Jeanette,  who  was  not  particularly  anxious  for 
her  comfort  in  any  other  respect,  was  not  quite  so  careful  of  her 
health  as  she  pretended  to  be,  when  she  sent  her  so  very  early  to 
bed. 


ADVENTURES   WITH   GHOSTS.  229 

She  had^  great  many  wise  reflections  in  her  curly  little  head; 
but  what  could  she  do?  Fifty  years  since  there  was  not,  as  now, 
a  post-office  in  every  considerable  neighborhood,  and  a  mail  nearly 
every  day.  Lily  did  not  expect  to  hear  from  her  parents,  or  to 
have  an  opportunity  of  sending  a  message  to  them,  before  their 
return.  She  knew  that  she  had  no  authority,  and  her  cautious 
attempts  at  advice  were  received  in  such  a  way,  that  she  was  sure 
that  to  try  remonstrance  would  only  draw  down  the  anger  of  Jean- 
ette  upon  herself.  So  she  resolved  to  be  quiet,  but  to  watch 
very  closely  all  that  was  passing,  and  if  any  way  was  opened  by 
which  a  little  girl  like  her  could  effect  anything,  she  would  be 
ready  to  improve  it. 

One  night  the  company  was  unusually  large  and  merry.  Lily 
had  been  sent  to  bed  at  a  very  early  hour,  and,  as  the  parsonage 
was  far  removed  from  any  neighbors,  they  felt  under  no  restraint. 
They  ran  and  danced,  shouted  and  laughed,  till  the  old  house  rang 
again,  and  their  loud  screams  might  have  been  heard  a  long  way 
on  the  still  night  air. 

Suddenly  every  voice  was  hushed  !  The  tramping  of  feet  was 
stopped.  The  hearts  of  the  men  beat  hurriedly,  and  the  girls  grew 
pale  with  terror  !  for,  directly  above  their  heads  came  a  reverber- 
ating noise  which  all  heard,  even  above  that  of  wild  revelry. 

It  was  not  the  wind — it  could  not  be  thunder — but  it  was 
nearer  and  more  frightful  than  either.  At  first  it  came  with  loud 
raps,  like  a  great  supernal  hammer,  as  if  to  fasten  the  attention 
of  the  thoughtless  revelers.  Then  the  strokes  grew  lighter  and 
quicker,  and  after  a  succession  of  these,  it  closed  in  a  faint  ''  rap, 
tap,  tap,"  which  seemed  to  their  excited  minds  like  the  last  solemn 
warning  from  the  sepulchre.  The  reverberations  died  away  in  the 
old  chamber,  and  all  was  still  as  death.  It  seemed  as  if  the  ter- 
rified company  could  hear  their  own  hearts  beat,  and  even  breath- 
ing became  laborious. 

After  some  minutes,  some  of  the  young  men  began  to  be  ashamed 
of  having  been  so  easily  frightened,  and  proi)osed  going  up  stairs 
to  see  if  anything  had  been  jarred  down,  though  the  noise  was  so 
pecuHar  that  they  had  little  hope  of  finding  that  it  had  bean  pro- 
duced by  any  common  cause.     Some  of  the  bravest  led  the  way, 


230  ADVENTUKES    WITH   GHOSTS. 


and  others,  taking  courage  by  their  example,  followed  ;  while  the 
most  timid,  fearing  to  stay  down  stairs  alone,  followed  their 
companions  from  sheer  cow^ardice.  Every  nook  w^as  examined. 
Nothing  was  in  motion,  and  nothing  was  removed  from  its 
place. 

They  visited  the  low  bed  of  little  Lily.  The  child's  blue  eyes 
were  closed,  and  they  were  soon  convinced  by  her  loud  breathing 
that  her  innocent  slumbers  had  not  been  disturbed  by  the  terrific 
noise  that  had  so  alarmed  their  guilty  consciences.  Had  they  been 
close  observers,  and  had  they  not  been  frightened,  they  might  per- 
haps have  observed  that  those  long  lashes  trembled  a  little  as  the 
light  was  held  over  her  eyelids,  and  that  her  breathing  was  a  little 
louder  than  betokened  healthful  sleep.  But  they  were  not  phi- 
losophers, and  they  crept  softly  down  stairs,  talking  about  the 
wrong  doing  of  making  so  free  in  a  minister's  house,  and  of  the 
fearful  presence  of  spirits  ;  as  if  wrong  doing  were  not  wrong 
anywhere,  and  as  if  any  spiritual  presence  should  be  half  as  much 
to  be  feared  as  the  presence  of  that  Spirit  who  made  us,  and  who 
is  constantly  with  us,  and  will  call  us  to  an  account  for  all  our 
actions. 

The  mirth  was  over.  Some,  with  cautious  steps,  sought  their 
own  homes.  Others  stopped  with  the  aflrighted  Jeanette,  and 
soon  retired  to  bed, 

"Fearful  peeping  o'er  his  shoulder, 
Each  for  ghosts  but  little  bolder." 

In  the  days  that  remained  of  the  pastor's  absence,  there  were  no 
more  merry-makings.  Lilian  had  accomplished  her  object,  and  she 
kept  her  own  secret.  No  one  suspected  that  a  child  of  seven 
years  had  managed  to  quiet  that  large  company  of  thoughtless 
young  men  and  women.  After  the  little  girl  retired  to  bed,  she 
could  not  have  slept,  if  she  had  wished,  for  it  seemed  to  her  as  if 
the  very  house  would  come  down  over  her  head,  as  she  lay  revolv- 
ing the  means  of  producing  a  quiet.  Not  till  she  had  her  plan 
well  laid  did  she  attempt  to  execute  it.  Then  she  rose  softly,  took 
her  mother's  large  spinning-wheel  from  its  standard,  and,  placing  it 
upon  its  rim,  she  turned  it  swiftly  round,  till,  when  it  had  acquired 


FILIAL   TENDERNESS.  231 


sufiScient  velocity,  she  suddenly  withdrew  her  hand,  and  it  went  to 
the  floor  with  tremendous  force.  Lily  did  not,  as  most  children 
of  her  age  would  have  done,  frightened  at  her  own  temerity,  as 
the  sound  rolled  repeatedly  through  the  dim  old  chamber,  rush 
to  bed  again  ;  but  she  stood  silent  and  still,  till  the  wheel  was  mo- 
tionless ;  then  cautiously  taking  it  up,  she  tugged  it  along,  placed 
it  upon  its  standard,  put  in  the  pin,  held  her  hand  upon  it  till 
all  jarring  had  ceased,  and  then  quietly  groped  her  way  back  to 
bed. 

She  had  rightly  calculated  that  some  time  would  elapse  before 
the  people  below  would  venture  up  stairs,  and  before  they  came  she 
had  composed  herself,  and  lay  as  if  sound  asleep.  Not  until  years 
after  did  Lilian  make  known  her  part  in  the  transaction,  when  far 
away  from  the  scene  where  it  occurred,  and  doubtless  the  story  of 
the  supernatural  noise  at  the  parsonage  has  been  whispered  many 
times,  as  a  veritable  and  indisputable  ghost  story. 


FILIAL  TENDERNESS. 

A  YOUNG  man,  newly  admitted  to  the  military  school  in 
France,  would  eat  nothing  but  bread  and  soup,  and  drink 
nothing  but  water.  He^was  reproved  for  his  singularity  ;  but 
still  he  would  not  change.  He  was  finally  threatened  with  being 
sent  home,  if  he  persisted.  "  You  will  not,  I  hope,  be  displeased 
with  me,"  said  he  to  the  Principal  of  the  institution  ;  "  but  I 
could  not  bring  myself  to  enjoy  what  I  think  a  luxury,  while  I 
reflect  that  my  dear  father  and  mother  are  in  the  utmost  ipdi- 
gence.  They  could  afi'ord  themselves  and  me  no  bettor  food 
than  the  coarsest  of  bread,  and  of  that  but  very  little.  Here  I 
have  excellent  soup,  and  as  much  fine  wheat  bread  as  I  choose. 
I  look  upon  this  to  be  very  good  living ;  and  the  recoileoHon  of 
the  situation  in  which  I  left  my  parents,  would  not  permit  me  to 
indulge  myself  by  eating  anything  else." 


232 


WASHINGTON    IN   HIS   FAMILY. 


iP. 


i  / '  I 

WASHINGTON  IN  Hlfe  FAMILY. 

DR.  M'WHIRR,  who  was  the  teacher  of  the  academy  at  Alex- 
andria in  Washington's  day,  and  who  had  under  his  charge 
two  nephews  of  the  General,  gives  us,  in  his  autobiography,  the 
following  interesting  statement : 

"  At  the  dinner-table,  Mrs.  ^Yashington  sat  at  the  head,  and 
Major  Washington  at  the  foot.  The  General  sat  next  Mrs.  Wash- 
ington, on  her  left.  He  called  upon  me  to  ask  a  blessing  before 
meat.  When  the  cloth  was  about  to  be  removed,  he  returned 
thanks  himself.  Mrs.  Washington,  with  a  .smile,  said,  '  My  dear, 
you  forgot  that  you  had   a  clergyman   dining  with   you   to-day.' 


A  MUSICAL  OWL.  238 


With  equal  pleasantness  he  replied, '  My  dear,  I  wish  clergymf^n, 
and  all  men,  to  know  that  I  am  not  a  graceless  man.'  I  was  fre- 
quently at  Mount  Vernon,  and  saw  him  frequently  at  Alexandria  ; 
nor  did  I  ever  see  any  person,  whatever  might  be  his  character  or 
standing,  who  was  not  sensibly  awed  by  his  presence,  and  by  the 
impressions  of  his  greatness.  The  vivacity  and  grace  of  Mrs. 
AYashington  reHeved  visitors  of  some  of  that  feeling  of  awe  and 
restraint  which  possessed  them.  He  was  uniformly  grave,  and 
smiled  but  seldom,  but  always  agreeable.  His  favorite  subject  of 
conversation  was  agriculture,  and  he  scrupulously  avoided,  in  gen- 
eral society,  topics  conencted  with  politics,  or  the  war,  or  his  own 
personal  actions.  As  all  the  world  knows,  he  was  most  regular 
in  his  habits.  He  went  into  his  study,  it  is  said,  about  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  He  continued  there  until  breakfast,  which  he 
took  with  his  family,  and  then  visited  his  plantations.  He  re- 
turned at  noon,  and  his  dinner  hour  was  three  o'clock.  He  was 
then  open  to  the  calls  of  his  friends,  and  to  the  society  of  visitors. 
No  one  acquainted  with  his  habits  thought  of  calling  upon  Gen- 
eral Washington  in  the  morning.  He  took  the  liveliest  interest 
in  our  academy,  and  in  the  cause  of  education  generally,  and  uni- 
formly attended  our  exhibitions." 


A  MUSICAL  OWL. 

Mr.  Jenyns  relates  a  good  owl  story.  He  knew  a  tame  owl  that 
was  so  fond  of  music  that  he  would  enter  the  drawing-room  <jf 
an  evening,  and,  perched  on  the  shoulder  of  one  of  the  children, 
listen  with  great  attention  to  the  tones  of  the  piano-forte,  holding 
his  head  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the  other,  after  the  manner  of 
connoisseurs.  One  night,  suddenly  spreading  his  wings,  Jis  if  un- 
able to  endure  his  rapture  any  longer,  he  alighted  on  the  keys,  and, 
driving  away  the  fingers  of  the  performer  with  his  beak,  began  to 
hop  about  upon  the  keys  himself,  apparently  in  great  delight  with  his 
own  execution.  The  pianist's  name  was  Keevie  ;  he  was  born  in 
the  woods  of  Northumberland,  and  belonged  to  a  friend  of  Rev.  Mr. 
Jenyns. 


284 


EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE   TALK. 


y^Y  young  readers  will  open  their  eyes  in  am;ize- 
*))  ment,  when  they  perceive  that  the  position  of 
our  editorial  table  is  removed  from  New  York  to 
Florida.  But  this  is  an  age  of  table  moving,  you  know  ; 
f^  V"  so  that  it  is  not  so  strange,  after  all,  that  our  table  has 
f^  ^  been  jostled  out  of  its  place,  and  pushed  off  some  thou- 
sand miles.  Still,  I  perceive  you  are  not  quite  satisfied  with  this 
general  account  of  the  phenomenon,  and  I  must  give  you  a  more 
particular  one. 

On  the  last  day  of  February,  I  was  attacked,  very  suddenly,  with 
congestion  of  the  lungs,  and  was  confined  to  my  room,  at  my  resi- 
dence in  Tarry  town,  a  part  of  the  time,  perhaps,  in  a  dangerous 
state,  during  the  entire  month  of  March.  My  disease — which  w^as 
the  result  of  too  intense  application  to  my  literary  duties,  as  I  had 
tw^o  books  in  course  of  preparation  besides  the  Cabinet — through 
the  kind  interposition  of  my  heavenly  Father,  yielded  to  judicious 
medical  treatment  so  far  that  I  was  able  to  ride  out  on  the  third 
day  of  April.  By  the  advice  of  my  physician,  I  decided  on  a  tem- 
porary residence  in  a  more  southern  climate  ;  and  on  the  fifth  of 
April,  with  a  very  small  amoun.  of  strength,  I  took  passage  in  the 
steamer  Alabama,  bound  for  Savannah,  Georgia.  I  had  excellent 
accommodations  on  board  the  steamer,  and  every  attention  that  an 
invalid  could  desire.  Besides,  I  had  charming  company.  I  don't 
know  that  I  ever  enjoyed  an  excursion  more  than  this  of  three 
days  to  Savannah.  Among  those  to  whom  I  owe  especial  thanks, 
for  their  sincere  and  cordial  sympathy,  their  unwearied  and  hearty 
exertions  to  promote  my  comfort  and  enjoyment,  no  less  than  for 
their  excellent  society,  I  must  be  allowed  to  mention  the  Hon. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  235 

Benjamin  F.  Butler,  of  my  own  city,  who,  with  a  part  of  his 
family,  was  on  a  visit  to  the  Southern  country,  for  the  benefit  of 
his  health.  We  have  been  almost  constant  companions,  from  the 
time  w^e  left  New  York  until  now,  and  the  prospect  is,  that  we  shall 
remain  together  for  some  time  longer.  The  Lord  reward  them  for 
their  kindness  to  the  invalid. 

As  I  write  this  last  word,  I  find  myself  smiling  a  little.  I  don't 
know  but  setting  myself  up  for  an  invalid  now  is  equivalent  to 
getting  sympathy  under  false  pretences  ;  for  my  health  has  vastly 
improved  since  I  left  home.  The  sea  voyage  to  Savannah  proved 
of  great  service  to  me.  At  first,  I  was  hardly  able  to  get  up  and 
down  the  cabin  stairs  without  assistance.  But  I  gained  so  rapidly, 
that  my  friends  hardly  knew  me  from  one  day  to  another. 

The  voyage  was  not  very  eventful.  Some  of  the  passengers, 
who  had  not  ventured  before  upon  the  ocean,  thought  it  rather 
rough  a  part  of  the  time,  and  the  genius  of  sea-sickness  was  as  busy 
as  usual  ;  but  he  let  me  off  with  but  a  slight  brush  of  his  wing, 
just  to  let  me  know  that  he  had  not  forgotten  me  since  our  in- 
timacy in  my  voyage  home  from  Europe. 

After  we  passed  Cape  Hatteras,  the  weather  was  as  warm  as 
any  one  could  desire,  and  our  party  spent  a  great  portion  of  the 
time  on  the  quarter-deck.  One  morning,  the  captain  called  us  to 
tbe  side  of  the  ship,  to  show  us  how  singularly  we  had  captured  a 
shark  during  the  night.  One  of  the  floats  of  the  wheel  had  struck 
his  sharkship,  and  threw  him  over  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  wheel 
with  such  force  that  it  cut  him  in  two,  and  fastened  one  part  of 
his  body  between  the  timbers  in  such  a  way  that  any  one  could 
see  it  by  looking  over  the  side  of  the  ship. 

We  arrived  at  Savannah  on  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  just  as 
the  steamer  bound  for  New  York  was  leaving  the  wharf.  You 
can  hardly  imagine  what  a  difference  we  found  between  the  climate 
of  the  latitude  of  New  York  and  this  of  Savannah.  Vegetation  was 
still  enjoying  its  winter  nap,  when  we  left  home.  There  was 
scarcely  any  evidence  of  the  advent  of  spring,  save  that  afforded 
by  the  calendar.  From  winter  we  found  that  we  had  nearly 
emerged  into  the  climate  of  our  summer.  People  wore  walking 
the  streets  in  their  summer  dress.     The  windows  were  all  open. 


236  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

The  trees  had  on  their  full  foliage.  The  tree  called  the  "  pride  of 
India,"  which  is  exceedingly  abundant  in  Savannah,  was  in  flower. 
Roses,  in  endless  variety,  and  in  the  greatest  profusion,  were  visible 
in  the  door-yards  of  the  citizens.  Flora  was  at  the  very  height  of 
her  fete.  Green  peas,  strawberries,  new  potatoes,  radishes,  abounded 
in  the  market.  What  a  contrast  to  the  stern  March  weather  which 
we  encountered  at  the  North,  and  from  which  we  had  just  escaped. 

Savannah  is  a  beautiful  city.  It  is  more  level  than  any  other 
extent  I  have  ever  visited,  and  I  could  not  help  wishing  it  were  a 
little  more  undulating.  But  the  evenness  of  its  surface  is  perhaps 
counterbalanced  by  the  multitude  of  its  beautiful  public  squares, 
which  add  incalculably  to  the  beauty  of  the  city. 

I  intend  to  tell  you  more  of  Savannah  and  the  surrounding 
country  in  Georgia,  as  well  as  something  of  St.  Augustine,  in 
Florida,  where  I  now  am.  It  is  oppressively  warm  here,  and  we 
intend  returning  to  Savannah  after  a  day  or  two,  where,  as  the  cli- 
mate seems  favorable,  I  shall  probably  remain  some  two  weeks 
longer.  At  the  Pulaski  House,  in  Savannah,  I  have  excellent  ac- 
commodations. I  found  there,  connected  with  this  establishment, 
my  old  friend,  Mr.  Mackenzie,  so  long  one  of  the  proprietors  of 
the  Columbia  House,  in  Philadelphia,  where  I  have  always  found 
a  pleasant  home,  when  visiting  that  city. 

My  dear  leader,  I  was  about  to  say  adieu  ;  but  I  cannot  dismiss 
you  from  my  editorial  table  without  recording  an  expression  of  my 
gratitude  to  Almighty  God  for  his  great  kindness  and  mercy  to 
me  during  my  illness,  and  for  so  far  restoring  me  to  health.  In- 
deed, I  have  reason  to  be  thankful,  and  trust  I  am  thankful,  for  all 
the  dealings  of  Providence  with  me — for  the  illness  itself,  as  well 
as  for  the  many  kind  circumstances  attending  it.  How  plainly 
ha\  e  I  been  made  to  see  that  our  heavenly  Father  "  doth  not  afflict 
willingly,"  but  only  when  he  deems  it  necessary  for  our  spiritual 
well-being.  I  trust  I  have  learned  some  practical  lessons  while  ap- 
parently near  the  boundaries  of  the  eternal  world,  which  will  be  of 
infinite  value  to  me,  should  my  life  be  spared.  Dear  reader,  this 
world  has  an  aspect  very  difterent  from  its  usual  one,  when  viewed 
from  the  point  at  which  it  has  been  my  privilege  to  see  it,  and  so 
does  the  otho'  world,  to  which  we  are  air  hastening. 


EDITOEIAL   TABLE   TALK.  237 

"  MARK    FORRESTER"    AGAIN. 

It  seems  that  the  communication  in  tlie  last  number  of  the 
Cabinet  respecting  the  true  '  Mark  Forrester,'  has  raised  a  httle 
breeze  in  Boston.  Now  I  am  not  going  to  fight  any  body's  battle 
in  my  magazine,  nor  do  I  intend  that  others  shall  fight  their  bat- 
tles on  this  arena.  I  cannot  justly  refuse  a  place  to  the  statement 
of  the  other  gentleman  claiming  this  sobriquet,  especially  as  I  have 
been  earnestly  desired  to  do  so  by  my  friends  Messrs.  F.  <fe.  G.  C. 
Rand,  the  present  proprietors  of  the  Boy^s  tf  GirVs  Magazine. 
Mr.  King,  the  gentleman  who  wrote  the  article  complained  of  by 
our  correspondent  in  the  March  number,  addresses  the  following 
note  to  the  publishers,  which  may  be  regarded  as  the  statement,  in 
brief,  of  the  other  side  : 

"  To  Messrs.  F.  d  G.  C.  Rand  ;— 

"  As  you  purchased  Forreste7'''s  Boys''  and  GirW  Magazine  and 
the  good  will  thereof,  at  a  generous  price,  and  with  the  consent  of 
all  the  parties  having  any  publishing  or  editorial  right  ;  and  as 
those  parties  gave  you  leave  and  wished  you  to  use  the  name 
'  Mark  Forrester,'  at  discretion  and  by  right,  we  could  hardly  ex- 
pect any  person  to  claim  property  in  that  name,  or  to  use  it  only 
by  your  consent.  But  I  see  that  the  question  is  mooted  in  Wood- 
worth's  Cabinet^  '  Who  is  Mark  Forrester  ?'  and  somebody,  for 
some  purpose,  complains  of  deception  in  your  use  of  that  name  in 
the  last  January  number  of  your  magazine.  And  now  I  will  state, 
for  the  purpose  of  protecting  your  interest,  and  not  for  my  own 
sake,  that  I  wrote  and  signed  the  article  in  question.  If  any  gen- 
tleman wishes  to  deny  me  this  right,  obtained  by  four  years'  edi- 
torial control,  let  him  do  it  over  his  own  signature.  But  lest  I 
should  appear  assuming,  or  to  be  withholding  credit  from  others 
to  whom  it  is  due,  I  will  state  that  there  were  several  persons  who 
wrote  by  the  name  of  Forrester^  and  that  no  one  person  wrote  all 
which  appeared  as  editorial.  I  can  allow  a  vast  amount  of  credit 
to  parties  who  sustained  the  Magazine,  only  insisting  that  they  shall 
leave  you  in  peaceful  possession  of  what  they  granted  cheerfully  and 
for  value  received.  Your  friend, 

"Bostou,  March  20,  1854.  ^-  ^-  King." 


238  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


TO    CORRESPONDENTS. 

In  the  absence  of  the  editor,  his  brother  has  sent  me  a  bundle  of  letters 
to  look  over,  and  such  a  tall  bundle !  "  And  who  is  '  me'  '("  exclaim  the 
little  folks.  Why  S.  N.  to  be  sure.  "What  is  the  use  of  being  an  assistant 
editor,  if  she  doesn't  assist  the  editor  on  a  pinch.  But  dear  me !  what 
a  pile  of  letters  !  Arthur,  won't  you  help  me  to  arrange  them ;  and  you, 
Mary,  Caroline,  Albert,  Henry,  Samuel,  Jane,  Scotchey,  and  all  the  rest 
of  you?  I  wish  I  had  you  all  around  me  now,  wouldn't  we  have  a  nice 
time  ?  But  I  must  get  to  work.  Let  me  see,  whose  letter  is  this  so 
nicely  written  ?  Oh  !  Edward  Higgins'.  There  is  some  pleasure  in 
reading  such  a  nice,  clear  handwriting  as  that.  And  here's  another  pret- 
tily written  letter  from  Jennie. 

Jennie,  dear,  (don't  be  alarmed  at  my  familiarity,  I'm  not  the  editor, 
only  S.  N.)  the  Cardinal  puzzle  is  published  in  the  Boy's  Book  of  Sports; 
but  your  questions  for  planting  must  have  a  place. 

Roger,  I  shall  save  your  arithmetical  puzzle  for  Mr.  Woodworth  to 
pronounce  judgment  upon. 

F.  T.  M.  Your  enigma  must  also  find  a  place,  not  only  because  it  is 
neatly  written  and  quite  correct,  but  because  it  carries  out  Uncle  Frank's 
motto,  "Amusement  our  means,  instruction  our  end." 

J.  C.  B.  If  you  cannot  answer  all  the  enigmas,  <fec.  do  not  be  afraid  to 
send  the  solutions  to  such  as  you  can  find  out,  which  remark  applies  to  a 
great  many  of  our  little  readers.  Send  along  your  names  of  places  en- 
igmatically expressed :  they  take  the  children  to  their  maps. 

Essie,  I  think  your  enigmas,  Ac.  are  very  pretty  ;  but  if  Mr.  "Woodworth 
were  here,  wouldn't  he  scold  you  for  writing  on  both  sides  of  your  paper  ? 

J.  K.  L.  Your  labyrinth  shall  be  taken  care  of.  When  I  drew  mine,  I 
had  to  be  very  particular  about  having  it  the  right  size  for  the  Cabinet ; 
and  yours,  I  fear,  is  rather  small. 

E.  A.  Stillwell,  I  laid  down  my  pen  to  try  your  "  simple  melody"  on 
the  piano.  It  is  very  pretty,  and  must  be  taken  care  of ;  but  excuse  me 
if  I  suggest  that  your  C's  in  the  bass  ought  to  be  F's. 

L.  L.  Your  very  pretty  verses  on  the  rose-bud  shall  be  published,  if  / 
have  any  influence  in  the  matter. 

Well  done,  Katie  of  Lowell !  all  the  puzzles  answered,  and  plenty  of 
new  ones  propounded.  I  do  not  know  the  answer  to  the  enigma  you 
inquire  about.  Mr.  W.  never  shows  me  the  solutions,  so  I  have  to  find 
them  out  as  well  as  you. 

Here  is  another  nice,  clear  letter,  written  on  one  side  of  the  paper  only — 
answers  all  distinct.  Whose  is  it?  Ah!  it  is  Alvaro  F.  Gibbens'.  No 
danger  here  of  the  anagrams  getting  mixed  up  with  the  geographical 
answers. 

Mary  E.  M'Cleary.  Your  enigma  is  rather  too  easy.     But  don't  be  dis- 


EDITORIAL  TABLE   TALK.  239 


couraged,  dear ;  try  again,  and  take  something  historical  for  yonr  text, 
80  that  when  the  children  have  puzzled  over  it  and  found  it  out,  they 
may  hare  gleaned  some  instruction  from  it. 

More  nice,  clear  writing.  L.  and  C.  Mudge.  They  are  never  behind 
hand  with  their  answers. 

Black  River  Boy.  We  are  glad  to  hear  from  you  at  last.  You  cannot 
learn  to  swim,  you  know,  without  going  into  the  water.  I  have  known 
of  some  people  who  went  through  the  motions  on  the  dining-room  table, 
but  they  did  not  make  a  great  deal  of  head-way ! 

Uncle  John,  allow  me,  in  the  absence  of  the  editor,  to  shake  hands  with 
you.     I  hope  there  is  room  in  the  Cabinet  for  your  letter. 

Charles  Bennett.  I  think  you  will  be  suited  this  month  with  the  table 
talk,  if  all  you  want  is  quantity  without  regard  to  quality. 

Mary  M'Cormick.  Your  nice  little  letter  shall  be  properly  attended  to. 

Albert  L.  Edwards,  the  remarks  to  Black  River  Boy  will  apply  to  you. 
I  thank  you,  in  the  editor's  name,  for  your  invitation. 

Samuel  B.  and  John  E.  Wheelock.  I  think  your  questions  for  planting 
are  very  good. 

W.  N.  D.  The  anagrams  you  sent  are  not  original. 

A.  J.  Davis.  Your  enigmatical  names  must  find  a  place  in  the  Cabinet, 
but  I  hope  that  none  of  my  young  friends  will  feel  disappointed  if  their 
offerings  are  crowded  out  this  month  for  want  of  room. 

Jane  0.  De  Forrest.  The  first  three  of  your  anagrams  will  do  very  well, 
but  the  fourth  is  not  quite  the  thing. 

Anna  Quackenbush  '  n€ed  not  apologize  for  the  brevity  of  her  epistle 
We  rather  like  it.     "  Brevity  is  the  soul  of  wit." 

ENIGMA    NO.    V. 

I  am  composed  of  31  lettei's. 

My  25,  23,  24,  2,  is  a  plant  much  cultivated  in  Europe. 
My  18,  21,  31,  26,  11,  17,  9,  is  the  name  of  a  quality. 
My  13,  16,  20,  5,  4,  is  a  useful  animal. 
My  15,  16,  27,  18,  is  a  period  of  time. 
My  8,  7, 15,  16,  28,  18,  9,  is  a  man's  name. 
My  28,  29,  1,  is  a  metal. 
My  14,  6,  12,  13,  19,  20,  is  a  woman's  name. 
My  22,  10,  1,  is  something  belonging  to  a  fish. 

My  3,  19,  1,  6,  2,  20,  was  used  by  priests  generally  in  former  times,  and 
by  some  priests  at  present. 

My  whole  is  a  common  proverb.  w.  u.  h. 

ENIGMA    NO.    VI. 

I  am  composed  of  29  letters. 

My  12,  1,  17,  17,  15,  21,  27,  is  an  ancient  historian. 


240  EDITORIAL  TABLE   TALK. 

My  8,  27,  11,  1,  2,  23,  21,  13,  is  what  never  ends. 

My  5,  8,  7,  10,  23,  2,  6,  is  a  man,  great  man,  and  great  woman. 

My  17,  15,  27,  5,  28,  19,  was  an  ancient  reformer. 

My  7,  1,  13,  is  a  portion  of  light. 

My  29,  1,  23,  26,  13,  3,  1,  13,  is  what  every  lady  hates. 

My  24,  13,  16,  22,  15,  21,  is  an  ancient  king. 

My  28,  20,  25,  26,  is  a  town  bearing  a  name  connected  with  sacred  his- 
tory. 

My  22,  18,  24,  8,  is  a  great  supporter. 

My  27,  5,  11,  24,  29,  28,  21,  8,  2,  27,  is  what  all  have. 

My  1,  15,  16,  14,  19,  1,  is  a  village  in  Erie  County. 

My  4,  23,  27,  22,  is  a  preposition. 

My  2,  23,  17,  11,  is  a  river  that  overflows  its  banks  and  fertilizes  the 
Boil. 

My  1,  6,  2,  8,  1,  12,  is  a  Latin  poem. 

My  4,  23,  26,  25,  has  ruined  many. 

My  whole  is  a  question  of  an  ancient  philosopher  to  the  man  referred 
to  in  enigma  No.  1. 

CHARADE    NO.    VI. 

In  the  door  are  sunbeams  streaming, 
Out  are  Susie's  black  eyes  beaming. 
"Oh!  m J  first !  dear  mother,  see 
Where  it  comes  for  you  and  me, 
Comes  to  bear  us  to  the  shore 
Where  the  wild  waves  flash  and  roar." 

"  Where  is  Susie  now  ?"  they  call, 
Mother,  driver  wait,  and  all. 
From  the  mirror  Susie  vain 
Echoes  back  their  shouts  again. 
•'  For  my  second  please  to  wait : — 
Kow  my  second's  at  the  gate." 

Here  the  white-sailed  vessels  be 
Glancing,  bird-like  o'er  the  sea. 
Mark  the  fishers  on  the  beach. 
Susie  darling,  they  may  teach 
Thee  to  shun  the  flatterer's  word; 
Silly  fishes  seek  my  third. 

Home  again  !  dear  sheltering  home ! 
Always  dearest  when  we  roam. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  241 


Something  on  the  table  lies ; — 

Susie's  hands  have  chased  her  eyes — 

To  a  corner  she  has  stole, 

There  she  feasts  iipon  my  vjhole.  l.  l. 

BUDGET    OF    AXAGRAMS,   NO.    IV. 

1.  Red  nag.  5.  Stray,  moon! 

2.  He  gets  our  sins.  6.  A  sun's  hkight. 

3.  The  war.  Y.  Hot  drug. 

4.  Go,  lost  rat!  8.  Care  pent  me  in.        a.  s.  c. 

NAMES    OF    PLACES    IX    MAINE,    ENIGMATICALLY    EXPRESSED. 

1.  A  liquid,  and  a  shallow  part  of  a  stream. 

2.  A  color,  and  a  collection  of  houses. 

3.  A  fruit  and  a  piece  of  land. 

4.  An  article,  and  a  descendant. 
6.  A  name,  and  a  place  of  safety. 

6.  A  girl's  name,  and  a  collection  of  houses. 

SETH    i.    AXI-ELL,    JE. 
CUTTINGS    FOR    PLANTING. 

1.  Plant  the  ceiling,  what  will  come  up  ? 

2.  Plant  Cupid  with  his  throat  cut,  what  will  grow  ? 

3.  Plant  a  clock,  what  will  come  up  ?  • 

SAMUEL    B.    AND    JOHN    E.    WHEELOCK. 


PUZZLE. 


A  pastry-compound  fate  met  a  repair  first  person  am  unable,  and  asked 
sacred  song  if  he  forest  go  cc,  he  rep.  told  an  untruth  that  he  would  ra- 
ther stamp  on  drain  (N^)  by  the  charity  of  his  benevolent  perused. 


What  person  ever  lived  in  the  world,  the  number  of  whose  years  was 
equal  to  the  number  of  days  now  required  to  constitute  a  year  i 

JOHN  R. 

ANSWER    TO    THE    CUTTINGS    FOR    PLANTING. 

1.  Crown  Imperial.         2.  Mourning  Widow.         ',\.  Bouncing  Bbt. 
Answered  by  Roger,   Samuel  B.   and  John  E.   Whcelock,  George  Q. 
and  Clara  C.  Day,  C.  H.  Little,  and  W.  A.  Lewis. 

VOL.   V.  1  I  MV 


242  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


ANSWER    TO    CHARADE    NO.    V. 

One  bird  at  night  'neath  the  moon's  pale  light 

And  stars  that  gem  the  sky, 
When  all  is  still,  mournful  yet  shrill, 

Rings  forth  its  note  on  high. 

This  bird  alone,  with  its  pensive  moan, 

Can  never  charm  my  ear. 
In  plaintive  trill  of  the  whip-poor-will, 

There  is  naught  the  heart  to  cheer. 

Also  answered  by  Jennie,  Roger,  Newell  and  Richard  Ackerman,  J.  C. 
B.  Charles  F.  Sweetser,  Katie,  Franklin  H.  Mason,  Alvaro  F.  Gibbens, 
Mary  E.  M'Cleary,  ^sop  of  Seneca  Falls,  James  L.  Orr,  Arabella  J. 
Tuttle,  L.  and  C.  Mudge,  Black  River  Boy,  Charles  Bennett,  Albert  L. 
Edwards,  Samuel  B.  and  John  E.  Wheelock,  Edward  R.  Earl,  Edward  W. 
Stuart,  G.  F.  and  M.  H.  Laird,  Moses  P.  Snell,  G.  H.  Little,  George  Q. 
and  Clara  C.  Day,  W.  N.  D.,  Bessie,  Seth  J.  Axtell,  jr.  A.  J.  Wheeler,  J.  A. 
Davis,  Edward  Lindsey,  Jane  0.  De  Forrest,  Anna  Quackenbush,  Gottleib 
and  Ivan,  G.  K.  Brady,  J.  G.  Birney,  jr.,  M.  C.  Russell  and  Cousin  Libby. 


ANSWER    TO    CHARADE    NO.    VI. 

The  lark's  glad  voice  bids  all  rejoice 

In  the  light  of  returning  day ; 
With  hound  and  horn,  the  huntsman  at  morn 

Spurs  his  gallant  steed  away. 

The  morning  dew  from  the  larkspur  blue 

He  showers  with  hasty  tread. 
Yet  the  slender  stem  bereft  of  its  gem 

Still  modestly  lifts  its  head. 

It  gently  gleams  in  the  sunny  beams 

Of  morning's  freshest  ray, 
While  with  reckless  speed  the  bonnie  steed 

With  his  rider  dashes  away. 

Bnt  eyes  far  more  blue  than  the  flower's  soft  hue 

That  danced  in  morn's  mellow  light. 
With  welcome  sweet  the  huntsman  will  greet 

As  he  homeward  turns  at  night.  Essnc 

Also  answered  by  Jennie,  Roger,  Katie,  Alvaro  F.  Gibbens,  Albert  L. 
Edwards,  Edward  R.  Earl,  Edward  W.  Stuart,  C.  R  Little,  George  Q. 
and  Clara  C.  Day,  A.  J.  Wheeler,  J.  A.  Davis,  Edward  Lindsley,  Jane  O. 
De  Forrest,  Anna  Quackenbush,  Gottleib  and  Ivan,  J.  G.  Birney,  jr. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE   TALK.  243 

ANSWER    TO    BUDGET  OF    ANAGRAMS,    NO.    Ill, 

1.  ApPEETAm.  4.  Pleasure. 

2.  Reinstate.  5.  Statioxaby. 

3.  PoTATOE.  6.  Oversleep. 
Answered  by  Katie,  Alvaro  F.  Gibbens,  Henry  B.  Foster,  Edward  R. 

Earl,  Edward  W.  Stuart,  W.  N.  D.,  Mattie  C.  Russell  and  Cousin  Libby. 


ANSWER    TO    ENIGMA    NO.   IV. 

The  Wind. 
Answered  by  Katie,  ^Esop,  L.  and  C.  Mudge,  Edward  W.  Stuart,  Moses 
P.  Snell,  George  Q.  and  Clara  C.  Day,  C.  H.  Little,  W.  X.  D.,  A.  J.  Davis. 


answer  to  the  enigma  on  ancient  geography  and  history. 

Stbabo,  Ptolemy,  and  Puny. 
Answered  by  Kate,  L.  and  C.  Mudge,  and  Edward  "W.  Stuart. 


ANSWER    TO    ANAGRAMS    OF    SCRIPTURE    PROPER    NAMES,    NO.    III. 

L  Stephen.  2.  Thomas.  3.  Abagtha.  4.  Matthew. 
Answered  by  Jennie,  Xewell  and  Richard  Ackerman,  Charles  F.  Sweet- 
eer,  Katie,  Alvaro  F.  Gibbens,  L.  and  C.  Mudge,  Henry  B.  Foster,  Ed- 
ward R.  Earl,  Edward  W.  Stuart,  Moses  P.  Snell,  C.  H.  Little,  George 
Q.  and  Clara  C.  Day,  W.  K  D.,  J.  A.  R.,  A.  J.  Davis,  Jane  0.  De  Forrest, 
G.  K.  Brady,  Anna  Quackenbush. 


ANSWERS    TO    NAMES    OF    PLACES    IN    INDIANA. 

1.  Greenfield.  4.  Williamsport. 

2.  Huntington.  5.  Bedford. 

3.  Brownstown  or  Dansville.  6.  Newcastle. 
Answered  by  Edwin  Higgins,  Jennie,  Roger,  Xewell  and  Richard  Ac- 
kerman, J.  C.  B.,  Charles  F.  Sweetser,  Katie,  Franklin  F.  Mason,  Alvaro 
F.  Gibbens,  Arabella  J.  Tnttle,  L.  and  C.  Mudge,  Black  River  Boy,  Mary 
M'Cormick,  Mary  H.  Wickes,  Henry  B.  Foster,  Edward  R.  Earl,  Edward 
W.  Stuart,  G.  F.  and  M.  H.  Laird,  Moses  P.  Snell,  George  Q.  and  Clara 
C.  Day,  W.  X.  D.,  Bessie,  J.  A  R.,  Seth  J.  Axtell,  jr.  C.  A.  Wheeler,  A. 
J.  Davis,  Edward  Linsley,  Jane  0.  De  Forrest,  George  K.  Brady,  Anna 
Quackenbush,  Gottleib  and  Ivan,  William  C.  Casey,  George  Lester. 


answers  to    counties   in  michigan. 

1.  Hillsdale.  3.  Crawford. 

2.  Oceana.  4.  Sctioolcrapt. 

5.  Gladwin. 
Answered  by  Edward  Higgins,  Jennie,  Roger,  Newell  and  Richard  Ac- 


244  EDITORIAL   TABLE   TALK. 

kerman,  Katie,  Franklin  H.  Mason,  Alvaro  F.  Gibbens,  L.  and  C.  Mndge, 
Black  River  Boy,  Charles  Bennett,  Charles  T.  Dering,  jr.,  Albert  L.  Ed- 
wards, Henry  B.  Foster,  Edward  R,  Earl,  Edward  W.  Stuart,  Moses  P. 
Snell,  George  Q.  and  Clara  C.  Day,  TV.  K  D.,  Bessie,  J.  A.  R.,  Seth  J.  Ax- 
tell,  jr.,  Edward  Lindsley,  Jane  0.  De  Forrest,  George  K.  Brady. 


BUSINESS    NOTICE. 

The  publisher  earnestly  requests  all  his  patrons  who  are  in  arrears 
for  the  Cabinet,  not  to  omit  the  opportunities  (so  frequent  at  this  season 
of  the  year)  of  sending  by  private  hands  to  the  publication  office  in  Xew 
York  the  amount  of  their  dues. 


WALTER    COLTON  S    WORKS. 

1.  Deck  and  Port;  or,  Incidents  of  a  Cruise  in  the  United  States  Frigate 
Congress,  to  California. 

2.  Land  and  Lee  in  the  Bosphorus  and  uSgean  ;  or,  Vietrs  of  Constanti- 
nople and  Athens. 

3.  Ship  and  Shore,  in  Madeira,  Lisbon,  and  the  Mediterranean. 

4.  Sea  and  Sailor ;  with  Notes  on  France  and  Italy ^  and  oih^r  Literary 
Remains. 

Mr.  Colton,  for  many  j'cars  a  chaplain  in  tlie  navy,  was  one  of  the  most 
racy  and  entertaining  of  all  our  American  writers,  in  the  matter  of  trav- 
eling sketches.  I  never  could  take  up  one  of  his  volumes,  and  open  it 
at  random,  without  finding  it  difficult  to  lay  it  down  again.  His  pictures 
of  men  and  things  are  charming,  He  never  wrote  merely  for  the  sake 
of  writing ;  but  there  is  soul  in  all  his  sketches,  and  everybody  who  lis- 
tens to  him  feels  that  he  chats  because  he  has  something  to  say.  There 
is  not  a  little  pleasantry  in  all  hie  books — more  than  some  people  would 
approve — but  he  never  uses  his  fund  of  wit  and  humor  to  wound  any 
one's  sensibilities,  nor  does  he  employ  a  joke  at  the  expense  of  virtue. 
Indeed  there  is  an  undercurrent  of  healthful  morality  and  true  religion 
in  all  his  works.  A.  S.  Barnes  &  Co.  of  this  city,  are  Mr.  Colton's  pub- 
lishers. 

Mr.  Genin's  establishments  on  Broadway  continue  to  be  the  popular 
resort  of  strangers,  as  well  as  our  own  citizens,  who  are  in  want  of  hatSj 
caps,  umbrellas,  canes,  (fee.  His  lower  store  is  under  the  Museum,  214 
Broadway  ;  his  upper  one,  under  the  St,  Nicholas  Hotel,  513  Broadway. 
At  the  latter  place,  children  can  be  fitted  to  almost  any  aaticle  of  dress. 
Besides  superintending  the  sweeping  of  the  Russ  pavemeniin  Broadway 
daily — a  task  equal,  one  would  think,  to  that  of  cleaning  the  Augean 
stable — Mr.  Genin,  by  his  studious  efforts  to  please,  is  sweeping  a  vast 
amount  of  custom  into  those  two  Broadway  stores.  * 

*  i 


THE   COW    AND   THE   MOUSE. 


THE   PHILOSOPHICAL   COW.  247 


THE  PHILOSOPHICAL  COW. 


VENERABLE  COW,  who  had  just  returned  from  a  rich 
pasture,  and  was  about  entering  the  barn-yard  for 
the  night,  encountered  a  mouse  perclied  upon  an 
inverted  milk-pail.  The  cow  was  well-bred,  and  ex- 
changed the  ordinary  courtesies  with  her  humble  little 
^^  neighbor,  although  she  was  reputed  to  be  somewhat  aris- 
tocratic in  her  feelings  and  prejudices.  The  mouse  took  advantage 
of  this  civility — illustrating,  perhaps,  the  truth  of  that  old  saw,  that 
if  you  give  some  folks  an  inch,  they  will  take  an  ell — and  made 
some  remarks  about  the  weather,  to  which,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
the  cow  civilly  responded.  The  conversation,  by  a  little  adroitness 
on  the  part  of  iS^ibble,  easily  glided  to  quite  another  topic,  that  of 
"  hard  times,"  upon  which  he  became  astonishingly  eloquent.  He 
spoke  of  his  own  sufferings  and  those  of  his  family  ;  told  how  ho 
had  been  reduced  in  his  circumstances,  so  that  poverty  stared  him 
in  the  face ;  how  his  children  had  been  torn  from  his  embrace  by 
the  ruthless  paws  of  the  family  cat ;  how  his  wife — and  here  his 
little  black  eyes  were  moistened  with  the  dew  of  grief— had  been 
cruelly  murdered  for  no  other  fault  than  tasting  a  mammoth 
cheese  ;  and  how  his  woes  were  more  than  any  mortal  mouse  could 
bear. 

The  philosophical  old  matron,  chewing  all  the  while  the  cud  of 
contentment  and  happiness,  heard  this  tale  of  sorrow  to  the  end  ; 
and  then,  as  she  turned  to  the  trough  well  supplied  with  meal  for 
her  supper,  she  said,  in  the  blandest  possible  tones,  "  My  dear  little 
friend,  we  are  born  to  trouble  in  this  world.  It  is  the  lot  of  all. 
You  have  your  peculiar  troubles— I  have  mine.  It  is  a  great  vir- 
tue to  bear  our  sorrows  with  patience  and  resignation.     I  hope  you 


248  A  WONDERFUL   CLOCK. 

will  learn  to  practice  this  virtue.  There  is  nothing  like  it,  as  I 
have  learned  from  my  own  experience."  And  so  she  bade  her 
suffering  neighbor  "  good  evening,"  and  addressed  herself  to  her 
sumptuous  supper. 

"  Ah,"  said  the  poor  little  mouse,  as  he  tearfully  wended  his  way 
homewaid,  "  now  I  see  how  wide  a  difference  it  makes,  in  survey- 
ing the  ills  of  life,  at  what  point  one  stands  to  look  at  them." — 
Theodore  Thinker. 


A  WONDEEFUL  CLOCK. 

TOWARD  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century,  Jaquet  Droz,  a  Swiss 
clockmaker,  carried  to  Ferdinand  the  Catholic,  King  of  Spain, 
a  clock,  which  was  the  w^onder  of  all  Europe.  The  king  paid  the 
large  sum  of  five  hundred  louis  (or  about  two  thousand  two  hun- 
dred dollars)  for  it,  and  when  it  arrived,  gathered  his  most  illus- 
trious noblemen  to  look  at  its  marvelous  works.  The  clock  repre- 
sented a  landscape,  and  when  it  struck  the  hour,  a  shepherd  issued 
from  behind  some  rock,  and  played  six  different  tune-s  upon  his 
flute,  while  his  dog  very  naturally  fawned  upon  him.  To  show 
the  king  that  the  dog  was  faithful  as  well  as  affectionate,  Droz 
told  him  to  touch  the  fruit  in  a  basket  by  the  side  of  the  shep- 
herd. The  king  laid  hold  of  an  apple,  and  the  dog  at  once  sprang 
at  his  hand,  barking  so  naturally,  that  a  spaniel  in  the  room  re- 
plied with  great  ferocity,  and  showed  signs  of  fight.  At  this  all 
the  court  left,  crying  out  "  Sorcery,"  and  there  was  only  left  the 
king  and  the  Minister  of  the  Navy.  The  king  asked  the  shepherd 
what  time  it  was.  The  clockmaker  told  him  that  he  did  not  un- 
derstand Spanish,  but  if  he  would  ask  him  in  French,  he  would 
reply.  The  king  then  put  his  question  in  French,  when  the  shep- 
herd instantly  replied.  This  was  too  much  for  the  Minister  of 
the  Navy,  and  he  instantly  ran  away.  Ths  poor  clockmaker  was 
in  danger  of  being  burnt  for  a  sorcerer,  but  he  explained  the  won- 
der to  the  Grand  Inquisitor,  who  was  convinced  that,  instead  of 
being  the  work  of  evil  spirits,  it  was  only  the  result  of  great  in- 
genuity. 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   FLORIDA. 


2-i9 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  FLORIDA. 


)w  would  my  readers  like  to  hear  a  little  about  an 
excursion  I  have  recently  made  to  Florida  ?     Pre- 
j^  suming  they  are  all  well  inclined  to  such  a  talk,  I 

,  Kjj  will  open  the  Floridan  budget.  One  day,  during  my  stay 
j^jY*  at  Savannah,  some  friends  who  had  been  my  constant  com- 
»>  panions  from  the  time  I  left  Xew  York,  proposed  an  ex- 
cursion to  St.  Augustine.  I  immediately  accepted  the  invitation, 
and  in  an  hour  or  two  we  were  on  board  the  favorite  steamer  St. 
John's,  Capt.  Freeborn,  as  good-natured  and  courteous  a  man,  I  ven- 
ture to  say,  as  ever  took  charge  of  a  steamer  on  these  waters. 
This  was  on  the  13th  day  of  April.  The  day  was  very  fine,  and 
all  the  passengers,  of  whom  there  was  a  large  number,  seemed  in 
excellent  spirits.  The  St.  John's  is  admirably  adapted  for  such  an 
excursion.  The  state-rooms  are  on  deck,  opening  both  outside  and 
into  a  saloon,  giving  abundant  opportunity  for  a  good  supply  of 
fresh  air.  You  wnll  wonder,  perhaps,  why  the  boat  is  fitted  up  in 
this  manner,  instead  of  being  constructed  with  a  view  to  boisterous 
sea  service.  I  will  tell  you  how  this  is.  We  take  the  ''  inside 
passage"  to  Florida.  We  scarcely  go  outside,  upon  the  open  ocean, 
at  all.  That,  too,  puzzles  you,  as  you  look  upon  your  map  and 
notice  the  relative  position  of  Savannah,  and  any  portion  of  the 
State  of  Florida.  Let  me,  then,  explain  a  little  more  particularly. 
All  alons:  the  coast,  from  Savannah,  and  even  farther  north,  to  the 
southern  extremity  of  the  Cape  of  Florida,  there  is  a  continued  suc- 
cession of  inlets,  or  arms  of  the  sea,  separated  from  the  ocean  only 
by  a  narrow  strip  of  land,  forming  islands  of  greater  or  less  extent. 
Soon  afier  v/e  pass  down  through  one  of  the  mouths  of  the  Savan- 
nah river,  we  enter  one  of  these  inlets — the  common  name  for  them 
here  is  creeks — and  we  continue  in  them,  almost  entirely,  until  we 

VOL.  V.  11*  .TE. 


250  FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   FLORIDA. 

reach  the  St.  John's  river,  in  Florida.  The  distance  to  St.  Augus- 
tine, from  Savannah,  by  the  outside  passage,  is  only  some  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  miles,  while  by  the  inside  passage,  we  make  so 
many  crooks  and  turns,  it  requires  a  voyage  of  almost  four  hundred 
miles  to  that  point  on  the  St.  John's  river  nearest  St.  Augustine, 
about  eighteen  miles  distant. 

As  we  passed  down  the  Savannah  river,  and  among  the  islets  be- 
tween the  creeks  and  the  sea,  we  saw  numerous  plantations  of  rice. 
This  grain  requires  a  very  moist  soil,  and  is  always  cultivated  on 
low  lands.  The  usual  plan  is  to  raise  embankments  on  the  margin 
of  the  water,  so  that,  at  high  tide,  the  rice  field  is  lower  than  the 
surface  of  the  water.  This  is  done,  in  order  to  enable  the  planter 
to  flow  his  field,  by  opening  a  sluice  in  the  embankment,  which  he 
does  several  times  a  year,  at  high  tide.  We  noticed  some  fields 
flowed  in  this  manner.  They  were  entirely  under  water,  and  at  a 
little  distance,  they  resembled  small  ponds.  Tliere  is  an  immense 
amount  of  rice  raisetl  on  the  coast  o^  Georgia  and  Florida,  and  on 
the  banks  of  the  numerous"  s.trearns  and  inlets,  though  the  great 
staple  of  tiie  country,  as  you  very  well  know,  is  cotton.  Thousands 
of  acres  are  sometimes  devoted  to  cotton  by  a  single  planter.  Cot- 
ton was  just  sprin<;-ing  np  at  the  time  we  visited  Florida. 

Among  the  birds  which  abound  here,  and  which,  I  think,  would 
amuse  you  not  a  little,  is  the  pelican.  It  is  mostly  seen  swimming 
on  the  water,  with  its  long  and  rather  clumsy  bill  stretching  up 
high  in  the  air.  This  is  one  of  the  largest  of  the  southern  birds. 
It  feeds  on  fish  principally,  and  its  bill  is  well  contrived  for  seizing 
its  prey.  If  it  happens  to  come  across  a  very  good  fishing  ground, 
it  is  in  the  habit  of  catching  fish  enough  at  one  time,  to  last  perhaps 
the  whole  day.  The  plan  it  adopts  for  disposing  of  the  food  not 
wanted  for  immediate  use,  is  curious  enough.  It  is  provided  with 
a  large  bag,  or  pouch,  formed  by  an  expansion  of  the  throat.  The 
fish  are  deposited  in  this  pouch,  when  the  bird  is  not  hungry,  and 
eaten  as  occasion  requires.  There  is  not  much  beauty  about  the 
pelican  ;  but  those  we  encountered  amused  us  exceedingly.  They 
would  sometimes  allow  the  steamer  to  approach  within  a  few  yards 
of  them,  before  they  took  wing,  and  we  could  distinctly  see  their 
process  of  catching  fish. 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   FLORIDA.  251 

The  St.  John's  river  is  a  beautiful  stream.  I  could  chat  half  an 
hour  in  its  praise.  The  water  is  clear  and  transparent,  and  the 
banks,  though  low,  are  crowned  with  noble  pines  and  other  forest 
trees.  We  passed  within  sight  of  a  large  Indian  mound,  in  which, 
as  Capt.  Freeborn  informed  me,  human  bones  and  implements  of 
Indian  warfare  had  been  found. 

The  first  alligator  I  saw  was  on  the  banks  of  this  river.  There 
are  plenty,  I  was  told,  in  the  Savannah  river  ;  but  it  must  have 
been  rather  too  early  in  the  season  for  them  there,  I  apprehend,  as 


r  ;>>///  .S;:  "^-r 


THE   ALLIGATOR. 


I  vainly  strained  my  eyes  all  the  way  down  to  the  ocean,  to  get  a 
peep  at  one.  Several  of  these  ill-looking  monsters  were  seen  from 
the  steamer,  as  we  went  up  the  St.  John's  river.  We  were  within 
a  rod  or  two  of  one,  said  by  those  who  are  familiar  with  these  ani- 
mals, to  have  been  seven  or  eight  feet  in  length.  The  monster, 
when  we  first  discovered  him,  was  lying  lazily  on  the  bank,  with  his 
ponderous  jaws  wide  open,  waiting,  I  suppose,  for  any  customer 
who  might  come  along.  As  we  passed  opposite  to  him,  he  leisurely 
dropped  into  the  water,  remaining  stationary  with  just  the  tip  of 
his  nose  above  the  surface.  An  alligator  might  very  e.-isiiy  be  mis- 
taken for  a  log  of  wood,  by  one  unaccustomed  to  such  animals. 
Some  thrilling  stories  were  told  me  of  the  feats  of  the  alligator 
family  in  this  part  of  the  country.  It  seems  that  they  are  in  tiie 
habit  of  taking  their  station  opposite  a  plantation,  where  they  will 


252  FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  FLORIDA. 

lie  motionless  for  hours,  watching  the  appearance  of  fowls,  hogs, 
and  other  animals  from  the  plantation.  Ducks  and  geese  are  sure 
to  fall  a  prey  to  the  alligators,  whenever  they  venture  upon  these 
waters,  and  they  will  not  unfrequently  seize  upon  hens.  The  alli- 
gator makes  short  work  with  the  hog,  when  he  comes  into  his  do- 
minions. Piggy  often  takes  it  into  his  head  that  he  will  go  down 
to  the  shore,  and  feast  on  clams  and  muscles.  He  goes.  Mistaking 
the  alligator  for  an  old  log,  he  perhaps  approaches  within  a  few 
feet  of  him.  The  alligator,  who  is  wide  awake,  as  soon  as  he  hears 
piggy's  grunt,  hits  him  a  terrible  blow  with  his  tail,  which  at  once 
stuns  his  victim,  and  sends  him  into  the  water.  The  alligator  fol- 
lows— and  you  can  imagine  the  rest. 

A  gentleman  told  me  he  had  seen  an  alligator  catch  a  full-grown 
dog,  and  dine  upon  him.  The  dog  was  walking  along  in  the  sedge 
in  search  of  game,  when  he  received  the  fatal  blow  from  the  tail  of 
the  alligator,  which  knocked  the  breath  out  of  his  body  and  his 
body  into  the  creek  at  the  same  time. 

Alligators  very  seldom  attack  a  full-grown  white  person,  though 
it  is  dangerous  for  children  to  venture  into  the  water  where  they 
are.  For  some  reason,  however,  they  seem  to  be  less  afraid  of  ne- 
groes. A  large  alligator,  especially  if  he  has  been  fasting  for 
some  time,  does  not  hesitate  to  attack  a  negro  in  the  water.  A 
Georgian  told  me,  the  other  day,  that  in  the  place  where  he  lives 
a  negro  attempted  to  swim  across  a  small'  stream  after  nightfall, 
when  he  was  seized  and  killed  by  a  huge  alliga|^.  before  he  reach- 
ed the  opposite  bank.  '5^^ifc 

It  was  near  the  close  of  the  second  day  after  leSwf  Savannah, 
when  we  reached  Picolata.  Here  we  left  the  steamer,  and  procured 
a  carriage  for  St.  Augustine,  which  is  some  eighteen  miles  distant. 
The  boat  proceeded  on  to  Palatka,  and  up  the  Black  Creek,  and  re- 
turning, went  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  St.  John's  river,  and 
thence,  outside,  to  St.  Augustine.  We,  however,  preferred  a  shorter 
route.  The  road  we  traveled  was  constructed  by  government,  for 
military  purposes.  It  passes  through  a  perfect  wilderness,  only  two 
or  three  houses — and  those  of  logs — being  visible  on  the  whole 
route.  Thousands  of  acres  are  covered  with  pines  and  live  oaks,  of 
gigantic  growth  ;  but  they  are  so  far  from  any  facilities  for  trans- 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF   FLORIDA. 


253 


portation  by  water,  that  they  are  practically  of  no  value.  The 
palmetto — the  little  palm  of  which  fans  are  made — abounds  nere, 
and  grows  very  luxuriantly.  It  is  a  beautiful  tree,  and  this,  with 
another  species  of  palm,  called  by  the  not  very  poetical  name  of  the 
cahhage  tree^  gives  quite  a  picturesque  and  tropical  appearance  to  a 
Floridan  forest.  The  celebrated  magnolia  grandifiora  was  visible, 
too,  occasionally.  This  tree,  the  piide  of  the  southern  forests,  was 
in  full  bloom  at  the  time,  and  the  air  in  the  vicinity  of  one  of  these 
trees,  was  full  of  their  sweet  odor.  They  are  perfectly  white,  and 
as  large,  when  fully  expanded,  as  a  tea-saucer.  Were  I  a  Southerner, 
I  know  I  should  feel  proud  of  the  magnolia.  It  is  one  of  the  no- 
ble^ tiowers  that  ever  blessed  this  planet  with  its  beauty  and  its 
fraofrance. 


THE   MOCKING   BIRD. 


The  mocking  bird  is  very  abundant  in  Florida.  lie  serenade«i 
us,  with  his  inimitable  music,  long  alYer  the  sun  had  disappeared. 
I  confess  to  having  fiillen  desperately  in  love  with  tliis  southern 
minstrel.  I  could  never  admire  his  music  much,  wiion  I  heard  him 
through  the  bars  of  his  cage  ;  for  I  am  so  violentiv  opposed  to  tlio 


254  FIEST   IMPKESSIONS   OF   FLORIDA. 

imprisonment  of  birds,  that  I  usually  feel  almost  as  much  pain  as 
pleasure,  when  they  are  thus  confined.     But  the  warbling  of  this 


THE   MOCKING    BIRD  8  NB8T. 


songster,  from  the  boughs  of  the  pines  and  oaks  of  liis  native  for- 
ests in  Georgia  and  Florida,  is  perfectly  charming  to  me.  I  could 
sit  and  listen  to  it  for  an  hour  at  a  time.  We  persuaded  our  diiver, 
on  the  way  to  St.  Augustine,  to  stop  some  minutes,  in  order  to  hear 
this  music.  The  nest  of  the  mocking  bird  is  a  curious  structure. 
I  found  one  while  walking  through  a  dense  thicket  in  Florida.  It 
is  made  principally  of  little  twigs,  ingeniously  woven  together,  and 
jmed  with  hair  and  other  soft  substances.  The  female  lays  four 
eggs,  and  while  she  is  sitting  upon  them,  the  devoted  husband 
sings  to  her  all  day  long.  I  used  to  think  the  mocking  bird  was 
merely  an  imitator.  But  he  is  something  more  than  that.  He 
not  only  adroitly  groups  together  the  airs  of  other  birds,  but  he 
performs  a  hnW'mnt fantasia.  His  variations  often  form  the  sweetest 
part  of  his  performance,  and  he  seems  to  have  a  pleasure  in  lead- 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   FLORIDA.  255 

ing  other  birds  astray.  He  is  said  at  one  time  to  allure  the  smaller 
birds  with  the  call  of  their  mates,  and,  when  they  come,  to  terrify 
them  with  the  scream  of  an  eagle.  There  is  scarcely  a  bird  of  the 
forest  that  is  not,  at  times,  deceived  by  his  call. 

Although  we  did  not  arrive  at  St.  Augustine  until  past  twelve 
o'clock  at  night,  the  weather  was  so  w^arm  and  the  moon  shone  so 
brightly,  that  our  ride  was  by  no  means  unpleasant.  Our  driver 
was  a  native  Floridan,  and  entertained  us  not  a  little  by  stories 
about  the  Seminole  war  and  other  matters.  It  seems  that  this  part 
of  Florida  was  a  favorite  hunting-ground  of  the  Indians  ;  and  here, 
during  that  unfortunate  war,  many  bloody  engagements  took  place. 
The  driver  was  a  capital  story-teller ;  but  it  must  be  confessed  that 
as  the  night  advanced,  his  auditors  grew  sleepy,  and  at  length, 
from  nodding  complacently  to  his  narrations,  we  all  got  to  nodding 
for  a  very  different  motive.  And  so,  tired  and  sleepy  to  the  last 
degree,  we  entered  the  old  town  of  St.  Augustine,  and  were  driven 
to  the  Planters'  Hotel,  which,  however,  we  did  not  occupy  but  one 
night,  as  our  rooms  w^ere  little  jitter  than  first-class  stables,  but 
early  the  next  morning,  removed  our  quarters  to  the  Magnolia 
House,  where  we  were  entertained  much  more  to  our  mind. 

St.  Augustine  would  strike  you,  the  moment  you  placed  your 
eyes  upon  it,  as  an  exceedingly  droll  old  town.  And  so  it  is,  the 
drollest  in  our  widely-extended  republic.  It  was  built,  for  the  most 
part,  when  Florida  was  owned  by  the  Spaniards,  and  many  of  the 
edifices  date  as  far  back  as  the  first  settlement  of  the  town.  Nearly 
all  the  buildings  have  a  peculiarly  foreign  and  antique  air.  They 
almost  seem  like  petrifactions.  Many  of  them  are  going  to  de- 
cay. Few  new  ones  have  been  erected  since  our  government  gain- 
ed possession  of  the  country,  and  few,  I  apprehend,  are  likely  soon 
to  be  erected.  It  derives  its  great  notoriety  from  its  atiording  a 
salubrious  and  healthful  locality  for  invalids.  For  several  m<Miths 
in  the  year,  the  town  teems  with  persons  who  are  out  of  health, 
and  their  families;  so  that  the  citizens  may  be  said  to  live  on  iu- 
vahds. 

The  old  Spanish  fort  is  quite  a  curiosity.  It  is  built,  for  th»>  most 
part,  of  a  peculiar  stone  from  the  contiguous  island  of  St.  Anast;usia, 
called  shell  stone.     In  its  day,  this  must  have  been  regarded  as  a 


256  FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   FLORIDA. 

model  fortification,  and  its  general  plan  has  been  pronounced  fault- 
less by  naval  engineers  of  the  present  day.  To  our  government, 
however,  I  imagine  it  is  only  valuable  as  a  curiosity.  I  cannot 
think  it  possible  that  any  enemy  on  the  face  of  the  globe  could  be 
so  foolish  as  to  make  a  landing  on  this  coast.  If  one  ever  should 
do  so,  and  should  succeed  in  taking  St.  Augustine,  with  its  old  for- 
tress, it  would  be  a  puzzling  question,  it  seems  to  me,  what  were 
to  be  done  next.  The  gentleman  who  attended  us  through  the 
fort,  pointed  out  a  room  where  it  is  thought  the  inquisition  used  to 
have  its  sittings.  I  am  pretty  credulous,  as  a  general  thing  ;  but, 
in  this  instance,  I  could  not  quite  bring  ray  faith  up  to  the  sticking 
point.  However,  we  were  shown  an  apartment  afterwards,  which 
certainly  furnished  some  evidence  of  the  existence  here  of  this  in- 
stitution. It  was  a  room  with  most  extravagantly  thick  walls,  to 
which,  as  we  were  informed,  no  access  was  discovered,  until  a  long 
time  after  it  passed  into  our  hands.  Then,  by  mere  accident,  some 
signs  were  noticed  that  there  had  formerly  been  a  door  in  this  part 
of  the  wall.  It  was  completely^ealed  up,  however,  at  the  time, 
with  large  boulders  of  shell  stone  and  mortar.  An  excavation  was 
made,  and  this  dark  dungeon  was  discovered.  The  bones  of  a  hu- 
man body,  which  were  found  there,  gave  some  color  to  the  notion 
that  it  was  a  genuine  dungeon  of  the  Spanish  inquisition.  I  leave 
the  question,  nevertheless,  unsettled,  in  the  hands  of  the  antiquaries, 
hoping  they  will  have  a  good  time  investigating  it. 

The  weather  in  St.  Augustine,  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  was  as 
warm  as  we  usually  have  it  at  the  beginning  of  July.  The  mer- 
cury, at  noon,  stood  at  85  degrees  in  the  shade,  the  day  after  our 
arrival,  and  overmuch  exercise  in  the  sun  was  by  no  means  com- 
fortable. The  season  for  strawberries  was  just  over.  Blackberries, 
and  of  the  very  finest  quality,  were  plenty.  Green  peas  were 
waning.  Other  vegetables,  which  we  have  in  New  York  about  the 
first  of  July,  as  new  potatoes,  turnips,  parsnips,  cabbages,  and  the 
like,  were  abundant  enough.  This  .part  of  Florida  was  formerly 
celebrated  for  its  fine  oranges.  But  a  severe  and  protracted  sea- 
son of  cold  weather,  which  occurred  here  some  years  ago,  destroyed 
most  of  the  orange  trees,  and  greatly  injured  the  rest.  At  present, 
but  few  oranges  are  raised.     The  fig,  pomegranate,  date,  and  na- 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS   OF   FLORIDA. 


257 


tive  or  sour  orange,  flourish  in  the  town  and  its  vicinity  ;  and  a 
great  variety  of  flowers,  which,  at  the  North,  are  cultivated  only 
in  green-houses,  here  flourish  in  the  open  air. 

The  century  plant,  or  x^raerican  aloe,  although  not  iiuJiiren  mis 
in  this  part  of  Florida,  flourishes  well 
here.  Although,  in  the  latitude  of  the 
State  of  New  York,  it  requires  a  great 
many  years  to  produce  flowers,  in  St. 
Augustine  comparatively  a  short  time 
suflSces.  In  the  West  India  Islands, 
where  it  is  perfectly  at  home,  I  think 
the  plant  will  blossom  when  it  is  seven 
or  eight  years  old.  In  Florida,  nearly 
twice  that  time  is  necessary.  The 
plant,  however,  grows  luxuriantly  in 
the  open  air,  summer  and  winter,  and 
requires  but  very  little  care.  I  saw 
one  of  the  plants,  just  on  the  eve  of 
flowering.  It  sends  up  no  flower  stalk, 
until  the  year  it  is  to  bloom,  producing 
nothing  but  leaves,  which  sometimes, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  plant  about  to 
flower  in  St.  Augustine,  attain  an  en- 
ormous size.  But  when  the  flower 
staik  appears,  it  shoots  up  with  almost 
incredible  rapidity.  x\ll  the  nutriment 
in  the  leav^es  goes  to  this  stalk ;  the 
leaves  wither  ;  and  in  two  months  the' 
stalk  grows  to  the  height  of  fifteen 
feet.  The  aloe  bears  a  multitude  of 
flowers,  in  shape  not  unlike  the  lily, 
and  of  a  greenish  yellow  color.  The  engraving  will  give  you  an 
accurate  idea  of  the  shape  of  the  flower. 

St.  Augustine,  like  many  other  places  in  Florida,  abounds  in  fine 
fish.  A  great  variety,  and  in  great  numbers,  are  caught  in  the 
river  on  which  the  town  stands.  This  circumstance  would  bo  a 
high  recommendation,  in  my  mind,  to  the  place,  were  I  to  reside 


FLOTVER   OF   THE   ALOE. 


258  ANECDOTE   OF  WESLEY. 

here.  I  am  exceedingly  fond  of  fish.  Were  I  a  Roman  Catholic, 
I  am  not  sure  that  I  would  grumble,  provided  they  allowed  me 
plenty  of  good  fish,  if  there  were  one  uninterrupted  fast,  lasting  from 
January  to  December. 


ANECDOTE  OF  "WESLEY. 

WHILE  traveling  in  Georgia,  I  picked  up  the  following  anec- 
dote of  John  Wesley  and  Gen.  Oglethorpe.  It  seems  that 
these  two  gentlemen  were  fellow-passengers  from  Europe.  In  the 
course  of  this  voyage,  Mr.  Wesley  heard  Gen.  Oglethorpe  making 
a  great  noise  in  the  cabin,  upon  which  he  stepped  in  to  know  the 
cause.     The  General  immediately  addressed  him,  saying  : 

"  Mr.  Wesley,  you  must  excuse  me.  I  have  met  with  a  provo- 
cation too  great  for  man  to  bear.  You  know  the  only  wine  I 
drink  is  Cyprus,  as  it  agrees  with  me  best  of  any  ;  I  therefore 
provided  myself  with  several  dozens  of  it,  and  this  villain  (his  ser- 
vant, who  was  present,  almost  dead  with  fear)  has  drank  up  the 
whole  of  it.  But  I  will  be  revenged  on  him.  I  have  ordered 
him  to  be  tied  hand  and  foot,  and  to  be  carried  to  the  man-of- 
war  which  sails  with  us.  The  rascal  should  have  taken  care  how 
he  used  me  so,  for  I  never  forgive." 

"  Then,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Wesley,  looking  calmly  at  him,  "  I  hope 
you  never  sin." 

The  General,  confounded  at  the  reproof,  threw  his  keys  to  the 
servant,  and  bade  him  do  better  in  future. 

What  a  severe  reproof  was  that.  Would  it  not  be  well  for 
every  one,  while  refusing  to  forgive  a  person  who  has  injured 
him,  to  bear  in  mind  that  he  himself  has  no  promise  of  being  for- 
given by  his  heavenly  Father,  until  he  cherishes  a  forgiving  spirit 
towards  every  one !  How  can  an  unforgiving  man  utter  this 
petition  in  the  Lord's  Prayer  :  "  Forgive  us  our  trespasses,  as  we 
foigive  those  who  trespass  against  us  ?" 


THE   TWO    PICTURES. 


259 


THE  TWO  PICTURES. 


don't  know  that  I  ever  pitied  a  poor  urcliin  in  niv 
life  more  sincerely  than  I  used  sometimes  to  pity  mv 
little  schoolmate,  Timothy  Turnover.  When  I  was  a 
boy,  there  was  more  whipping  done  in  schools  than 
•^  at  present.  Our  schoolmasters  used  to  go  through  the  cud- 
'^  (    geling  exercise  almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  pretty  nearly 

^'  every  day.  They  seemed  to  consider  themselves  possessed 
of  a  gift  in  this  department,  which  it  were  a  pity  not  to  exercise. 
I  did  now  and  then  think,  in  my  foolish  little  heart,  that  they  flog- 
ged us  ever  and  anon,  just  to  keep  their  art  in  practice.  As  for 
me,  either  because  I  was  an  especially  good  boy,  or  was  sly  enough 
to  keep  from  being  often  detected  in  mischief,  or  for  some  other 
reason,  I  seldom  felt  the  rod  on  my  own  back.  But  dear  me  !  it 
often  appeared  as  if  I  felt  the  stroke  quite  as  much  when  it  fell 
on  the  back  of  one  of  my  favorites.  In  the  course  of  human 
events,  it  became  necessary,  in  the  opinion  of  the  autocrat  of  the 
school-house,  to  give  Tim  a  sound  drubbing  every  few  days  ;  and  I 
remember  that,  more  than  once,  I  would  have  given  the  brighest 
cent  in  my  purse,  if  I  could  have  taken  the  blows  on  my  own 
back,  I  pitied  the  poor  little  sinner  so  much. 

But  what  was  the  fault  of  Tim  Turnover?  and  what  did  he  do, 
or  fail  to  do,  that  the  master  should  show  him  such  marked  par- 
tiality ?  That  you  may  clearly  trace  this  efiect  to  its  true  cause, 
I  will  give  you  a  little  pen-and-ink  sketch  ()f  my  playfellow. 

Timothy  Turnover,  whose  father's  house  was  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  ours,  and  whom  I  knew  as  intimately  as  if  he  liad  been 
a  brother,  was  particularly  fond  of  fun.  "  That  is  all  well  enough," 
some  one  says.  "Children  can't  help  loving  fun.  They  wouldn't 
be  children,  if  they  were  not  as  full  of  glee  as  the  bobolink  in  sum- 
mer." True,  every  word  of  it.  But  Tim's  great  fault — fur  1  must 
say  he  was  faulty,  like  the   rest  of  us — consisted  in  lii»  being  so 


260 


THE   TWO   PICTUEES 


completely  engrossed  in  liis  play,  that  he  had  no  mind  for  anything 
else.  He  was  so  full  of  fun,  that  there  was  no  room  for  any  se- 
riousness in  him.  He  was  the  happiest  fellow  alive,  as  long  as  his 
sports  lasted.  He  entered  into  these  sports  with  a  zest  wliich 
would  have  done  you  good  to  see.  He  had  a  good  deal  of  genius. 
He  could  make  a  capital  kite,  one  which  would  go  ahead  of  any- 
thing in  the  neighborhood.  He  had  a  knack  at  sketching,  too, 
and  could  draw  a  funny  picture,  which  would  make  all  the  little 
fellows  laugh  immoderately.  He  knew  how  to  make  a  fierce-look- 
ing man,  by  hollowing  out  a  pumpkin,  cutting  holes  for  the  eyes 
and  mouth,  and  notches  for  the  teeth,  and  then  lighting  it  up  at 
night  with  a  piece  of  a  candle.  He  could  cut  a  most  grotesque 
figure  out  of  a  piece  of  paper,  and  make  it  resemble  a  fellow  who 


THE  TWO   PICTURES. 


261 


PICTURE   IL AT   STUDY. 


was  as  fond  of  humor  as  he  was  himself.  Tim's  face,  when  thus 
engaged,  was  all  aglow  with  laughter  and  delight.  But  oh  !  what 
a  change  took  place  when  the  fun-loving  urchin  had  to  go  from 
the  play-ground  to  the  school-room.  He  never  could  get  along 
with  his  lesson.  The  learning  of  his  alphabet,  I  well  recollect,  cost 
him  more  than  one  flogging  and  untold  tears.  He  could  cry  as 
easily  as  he  could  laugh.  Indeed,  my  memory,  in  its  daguerreo- 
type portrait  of  the  boy,  has  always  sketched  hira  either  with  the 
broadest  grin  on  his  countenance,  or  the  tears  streaming  down  his 
cheeks.  It  would  almost  seem  that  the  harder  he  tri«'d  to  loarn, 
the  more  difficult  he  found  the  job  ;  for,  fearing  and  quaking  in 
view  of  the  master's  wrath,  whenever  he  was  sensible  tliat  he  could 
not  go  through  the  ordeal  of  an  examination  on  the  lesson,  the 


262  THE   TWO   PICTURES. 

tears  began  to  flow  at  once,  the  effect  of  which  was,  that  he  was 
unable  to  see  a  single  letter  in  his  book.  Tim  never  got  used  to 
his  floggings — as  eels  have  been  reputed  to  get  used  to  very  dis- 
agreeable surgical  operations  on  their  own  persons — Tim  never 
got  used  to  his  floggings,  so  as  to  endure  them  coolly  and  calmly. 
He  invariably  made  a  mighty /us5  about  them.  He  cried  piteously 
in  anticipation  of  one  of  them  ;  he  cried  while  it  was  going  on  ; 
and  he  cried  a  long  time  after  it  was  completed.  Poor  Tim  !  He 
more  than  once  told  me  that  he  would  rather  rake  hay  or  hoe  corn, 
in  a  broiHng  sun,  from  morning  till  night,  than  sit  down  and  com- 
mit to  memory  a  rule  in  grammar,  or  perfect  himself  in  a  spelling 
lesson.  I  never  saw  him  go  willingly  to  school  while  I  knew 
him.  Many  and  many  a  time,  have  I  known  him,  trudging  along 
toward  the  school,  with  his  book  open  before  him  and  the  leaves 
wet  with  his  tears.  I  recollect,  however,  that  one  time  some  of  us 
boys  made  him  laugh  in  the  midst  of  one  of  his  crying  spells,  just 
as  he  was  entering  the  door  of  the  school.  This  time  his  laugh- 
ing machinery  refused  to  stop  after  he  had  taken  his  seat.  It 
went  on  as  briskly  as  ever  in  school-time,  and  the  poor  fellow 
could  not  stop  until  the  master  had  struck  him  three  or  four  heavy 
blows  by  way  of  shutting  down  the  gate.  The  occasion  of  Tim's 
outburst  of  laughter,  on  this  occasion,  I  believe,  was  the  remark 
of  one  of  the  boys,  that  he  would  make  a  capital  town  crier. 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  Tim's  aversion  to  study  did  not  at  all 
abate  with  his  advance  in  years.  The  same  disposition  to  treat 
the  world  as  if  it  were  a  great  play-house,  exhibited  itself  all 
through  his  boyhood.  He  was  a  fine  playfellow,  but  a  bad  scholar. 
Now,  how  easily  could  he  have  cured  this  habit  of  his,  if  he  had 
only  set  out  to  do  it  early  in  life,  and  set  out  in  earnest.  That  boy 
little  thought  how  bitterly  he  would  one  day  repent  his  having  so 
frittered  away  his  time  in  early  life.  But  he  did  repent  it,  and 
will  repent  it  till  the  day  of  his  death. 


The  author  of  Lacon  says  the  excesses  of  youth  are  drafts  upon 
our  old  age,  payable  with  interest,  about  thirty'years  after  date. 


THE  TWO  FLOWEKS. 


263 


THE  TWO  FLOWERS. 


In  green  and  gentle  grades,  a  bank 
Down  to  a  crystal  river  sank, 
And  lost  itself  amid  the  sedge 
"Whose  fringe  o'erhung  the  -water's 

edge. 
Upon  this  verdant  bank  there  grew 
Two  pretty  little  blossoms  blue — 
In  childish  love  and  sweet  content. 
Their  happy,  happy  days  were  spent. 
The  playful  zephyrs,  in  their  freaks, 
Would   brush  their  wings  against 

their  cheeks, 
And  they  as  playfully  would  fling 
Their  odors  on  the  zephyrs'  wing. 
They  loved  to  dance  unto  the  tune 
Played  by  the  joyous  breeze  of  June ; 
Or,  through  the  lattices  of  grass 
Smile  on  the  waters  as  they  pass — 
For,  see!    two  mimic  flowers    are 

there, 
As  blue,  as  graceful,  and  as  fair  ; 
And  those  two  flowers  smile  and 

nod. 
To  these  two  blossoms  on  the  sod. 

At  eve  they  bent  their  modest  heads 
Beneath  the  blessings  heaven  sheds ; 
Still  for  the  shadow  and  the  dew 
They  gave   their   grateful   homage 

new. 
At  mom   they  raised   their   timid 

eyes     . 
Devoutly  to  the  eastern  skies. 
And  drank   the  sunlight   and   the 

breeze 
And   gave   their   daily   thanks   for 

these ; 
And  He   whose  hand   had   placed 

them  there, 
At  morn  and  evening  heard  their 

prayer. 


So  sped  the  time--a  heavenly  dream- 
To  these  two  blossoms  by  the  stream. 

A  stranger  strolling  thitherward 
Came   gently    stepping    down    the 

sward. 
And,  looking  round,  he  soon  espied 
Tliese  blossoms  by  the  river's  side  ; 
He  marked  the  proudest  of  the  two, 
And  plucked  it  up  from  where  it 

grew. 
And,  ere  the  flower  one  word  could 

say. 
The  stranger  bore  it  on  his  way. 

But  the  poor  blossom  left  behind 
Soon  heard  it  whispered  in  the  wind 
That  its  companion  was  afar 
Amid  a  city's  throng  and  jar, 
Where  chance  had  given  it  a  home 
Beneath  a  lofty  palace  dome. 
Among  the  gorgeous  shrines  of  Art, 
That  touched  the  eye,  but  not  the 

heart. 
And  lords  and  ladies  came  to  gaze, 
And  the  poor  flower  received  their 

praise. 

And  now  the  blossom  left  behind 
Forgot  its  old  content  of  mind  ; 
Forgot  its  modesty  and  worth, 
And  grew  asliamed  of  its  low  birth. 
Its  joys  all  festered  into  care?, 
And    to    complainings    turned    its 

prayers ; 
Its  bosom  folt  the  wild  vinrost 
Ambition  gives  tlie  luiman  brenxt ; 
It  longed  to  stand  in  o(iiinl  pride 
And  beauty  by  the  other's  side- 
It  knew  not  tliat  the  other  pined 
For  tlie  dear  scenes  it  loft  behind. 


264 


COUNSELS   FOR  THE   YOUNG. 


But  so  it  -was  ;  its  early  mate 
Had  wearied  of  its  high  estate ; 
It  sickened  of  the  heated  air 
That  hung  in  sultry  poison  there  ; 
And  when  the  opened  casement  gave 
Free  channel  to  the  airy  wave, 
It  bore  along  the  city's  taint, 
That  well  nigh  made  the  floweret 

faint. 
No  loving  stream  was  at  its  feet. 
To  lave  them  with  caresses  sweet. 
The  vision  of  the  smiling  sky 
Only  in  glimpses  blessed  its  eye  ; 
Dim  fragments,  seen  through  dusty 

panes, 
But  mocked  the  blue  arch  o'er  the 

plains; 
And  even  its  own  praises  stung 
From    hollow    heart    and     foolish 

tongue. 

Sadly  the  blossom  bent  its  brow 
That  often  throbbed  with  anguish 
now ; 


Bent  it  toward  the  olden  spot 
Forsaken — but  oh,  ne'er  foijgot — 
The  song  of  some  familiar  bird 
Fell  on  its  ear — and  now  it  heard 
The    rustling  of   the   flags,  whose 

blades 
Guarded  its  home  with  palisades ; 
It  saw,  or  thought  it  saw,  a  gleam 
Flash     thither     from     its      native 

stream, 
And  saw  its  dear  old  comrade,  too, 
Look     up     with     loving    eye,     so 

blue. 
Ah !    these    reproachful    memories 

came, 
And  sent  their  chill  through  all  its 

frame. 
And,    stricken    with     the     heart's 

decay. 

It  grieved  its  tender  life  away, — 

But,  till  it  fell,  the  blossom  pined 

For  the  dear  scenes  it  left  behind. 

Ivan. 


COUNSELS  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


Fight  hard  against  a  hasty  temper.  Anger  will  come,  but  re- 
sist it  stoutly.  A  spark  will  set  a  house  on  fire.  A  fit  of  passion 
may  give  you  cause  to  mourn  all  the  days  of  your  life.  Never 
revenge  an  injury. 

He   that  revenges   knows   not  rest; 
The   meek  possess  a  peaceful  "breast. 

If  you  have  an  enemy,  act  kindly  to  him,  and  make  him  your 
friend.  You  may  not  win  him  at  once,  but  try  him  again.  Let 
one  kindness  be  followed  by  another,  till  you  have  compassed  your 
ends.     By  little  and  little,  great  things  are  completed. 

Water  falling   day  hy  daj, 
Wears  the  hardest  rock  away. 


THE   DATE   PALM-TREE. 


265 


THE  DATE  PALM-TREE. 

I'^HERE  are  several  species  of  the  palm-tree,  as  my  readers  are 
probably  aware.  One  of  the  most  interesting  of  the  species 
is  that  which  bears  dates,  and  which  I  have  represented  in  the  above 
engraving.  I  saw  one  of  these  trees  in  a  large  conservatory  in 
Europe,  and  to  my  eye  it  was  a  splendid  sight.  Whon  this  tree  is 
full  grown,  in  its  native  climate,  it  frequently  reaches  the  height  of 
a  hundred  feet.  It  has  been  pronounced  the  most  beautiful  tree 
in  the  whole  range  of  the  vegetable  kingdom.  It  consists  of  one 
stalk,  rising  from  the  root  to  the  summit.  It  has  no  branches, 
preperly  speaking.  You  might  suppose  that  this  circumstance 
would   materially   impair   its  beauty  ;    but    such   is   not  the  fact. 

VOL.   V.  12  .TK. 


266  THE  DATE  PALM-TREE. 

Leaves,  gracefully  disposed,  supply  the  place  of  branches,  and  these 
spring  from  the  trunk  at  some  distance  from  the  root,  and  on  and 
near  the  summit  of  the  tree.  These  leaves  are  from  six  to  eight 
feet  in  length.  From  the  elegance  of  their  form  and  arrangement, 
the  tree  seems  to  be  crowned  with  a  diadem.  The  trunk  of  this 
tree  is  full  of  rugged  knots,  which  are  the  marks  of  those  spots  from 
which  the  decayed  leaves  fall  down,  and  which  are  never  replaced 
by  new  leaves.  The  trunk  is  not  solid,  as  is  the  case  with  our  foi-est 
trees.  It  resembles  the  cane,  the  centre  being  filled  with  pith,  while 
the  outer  part,  as  the  tree  advances  in  age,  gradually  becomes  woody. 

You  are  acquainted  with  the  fruit  of  this  tree,  I  presume,  as 
dates  are  to  be  found  in  all  our  cities  and  large  towns.  It  has  a 
sweet  and  very  agreeable  taste.  The  uses  to  which  this  tree  may 
be  applied  are  very  numerous.  In  the  songs  of  Eastern  countries, 
where  it  grows,  it  was  celebrated  as  being  useful  for  no  less  than 
three  hundred  and  sixty  purposes.  Whether  the  poets,  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  the  license  so  generally  accorded  to  them,  exaggerated  a 
little  or  not,  I  am  unable  to  say  ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the  fruit,  the  trunk,  the  leaves,  and  the  root  may  be  applied  to  a 
multitude  of  useful  purposes.  Travelers  inform  us,  that  a  very  con- 
siderable portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  Egypt,  Arabia,  and  Persia 
subsist,  to  a  great  extent,  on  its  fruit.  Its  medicinal  virtues  have 
been  also  highly  extolled.  From  the  leaves,  couches,  bags,  mats, 
baskets,  brushes,  and  an  almost  endless  variety  of  articles  are  made. 
The  stems  of  the  leaves  are  employed  in  making  cages  for  poultry, 
and  fences  for  gardens.  From  the  fibres  of  these  stems,  threads, 
ropes,  and  rigging  for  vessels  are  formed.  The  inhabitants  of  those 
Eastern  countries  also  prepare  a  spirituous  liquor  from  the  sap  of 
the  tree,  though  I  incline  to  the  opinion  that  they  would  be  better 
off  without  this  liquor  than  they  can  be  with  it  The  body  of  the 
palm-tree  furnishes  fuel. 

Several  parts  of  Palestine  formerly  abounded  with  the  palm- 
tree.  Jericho,  you  may  recollect,  used  to  be  called  "  the  city  of 
palm-trees."  In  thirty  years  after  this  tree  is  transplanted,  it  at- 
tains its  growth.  It  continues  to  retain  most  of  its  splendor  until 
it  is  about  seventy  years  old,  after  which,  though  very  gradually,  it 
declines,  and  at  about  the  age  of  two  hundred  years,  it  dies.     Sol- 


LITTLE  mart's   VISION.  267 

omon,  according  to  the  sacred  historian,  built  a  city  in  the  wilder- 
ness, which  was  called  by  the  Hebrew  name,  Tadmor,  signifyinir  a 
palm,  from  the  number  of  palms  which  grew  around  it.  The  Ro- 
mans, for  the  same  reason,  called  the  city  Palmyra.  Palm-trees, 
by  the  ancients,  were  esteemed  symbols  of  victory  ;  hence  the 
saints  in  heaven  are  represented  in  the  book  of  Revelations,  as 
having  palms  in  their  hands. 


LITTLE  MARY'S  VISION. 


BY    MRS.    J.    H.    HANAFORD. 


Calmly  at  the  close  of  day, 
On  her  couch  sweet  Mary  lay ; 
Pale  her  brow,  serenely  fair. 
Death's  own  icy  touch  was  there. 

Gazing  at  the  sunset  sky, 
Murmured  she,  "  I  soon  must  die, 
Father!  'mid  this  fiiding  light, 
Cheer  me  by  Thine  angel  bright." 

Swift  as  arrow  thro'  the  air. 
Winged  his  way,  then,  Gabriel,  there, 
Coming  from  before  the  Throne, 
Heav'nly  radiance  o'er  him  shone. 

"  Gabriel,"  saith  the  child,  "  I  dread 
Soon  the  shadow-vale  to  tread;" 
Soft  the  angel-voice  replied, 
"Fear  thou  not,  for  Christ  hath  died; 

"  Leaning  on  His  potent  arm, 
Thou  shalt  be  preserved  from  harm, 
Free  from  sin,  and  far  from  sorrow, 
'     Thou  shalt  hail  a  glad  to-morrow." 

Trusting  in  the  Crucified, 
Ere  the  morning  Mary  died; 
Far  from  sorrow,  free  from  sin 
Heav'n's  gates  she  entered  in. 
Nantucket,  Mass 


268 


THE  SPONGE. 


THE  SPONGE. 


iWBouLD  you  have  guessed  that  the  sponge  is  an  ani- 
mal ?     You  smile  when  the  thought  of  the  pos- 
sibility of  such  a  thing  crosses  your  mind.     And 
yet  the  sponge  does  belong  to  the  animal  kingdom. 
John  Ellis  it  was  who  proved  the  sponge  to  be  an  ani- 
mal.     We   have   many    native   sponges,   chiefly   of  a 
"  '"""'    ^     branched  form,  but  growing  sometimes  in  little  mounds, 
tufts,  and  crests  upon  rocks,  or  lying  about  the  shore  at  the  roots 
of  the  sea-weeds,  or  corallines,  which  have  been  forced  by  the  sea 
from  their  attachments  on  the  rocks.     Many  of  our  native  species 

grow  at  about  the  point 
of  low-water  mark,  where 
though  washed  by  the 
tide,  they  are  daily  left 
uncovered.  A  common 
sort,  the  branched 
sponge,  i^Halichondria 
oculata,)  may  be  seen 
frequently  on  our  shore 
among  the  refuse  of  the 
waves.  It  is  composed  of  branches  about  the  size  of  a  goose-quill, 
usually  on  a  stem  a  little  thicker,  and  is  often  a  foot  long.  Its 
color  is  that  of  a  light  sand.  Few  of  our  native  kinds  have  any 
bright  tints,  but  those  of  hot  climates  are  often  remarkably  beau- 
tiful in  form  and  brilliant  in  hue.  Backhouse,  in  his  "  Travels  in 
Van  Dieman's  Land,"  describes  a  remarkable  bank  of  sponges  on 
the  shores  of  the  bay  at  Circular  Head,  which  was  several  hundred 
yards  long,  and  more  than  a  yard  thick.  He  also  observed  several 
banks  of  smaller  dimensions  and  of  numerous  and  curious  species. 


THE   SPONGE.  269 


"  In  their  living  state,"  says  this  traveler,  "  the  sponges  upon  this 
coast  are  filled  with  a  scarlet,  crimson,  or  bright  yellow  pulp,  and 
covered  with  a  thin  skin.  They  are  of  great  beauty,  when  seen  in 
clear  water." 

The  sponges  of  our  toilet  are  mei'e  frame-works  ;  and  few  readers, 
unless  they  be  naturalists,  have  seen  a  living  sponge,  for  it  is  not  a 
very  frequent  sight,  and  must  be  looked  for  if  found.  The  canals 
and  pores  of  a  sponge,  while  living,  are  filled  with  a  thin,  jelly-like 
fluid,  which  is  seen  by  the  aid  of  the  microscope  to  be  entirely 
formed  of  minute  grains,  with  some  moisture.  That  portion  of  the 
sponge  which  we  generally  find  on  the  shore  is  simply  the  skele- 
ton, the  animal  having  died  on  exposure  to  air.  This  frarae-work 
in  some  species  consists  of  horny  and  elastic  fibres ;  in  othera  it  is 
of  a  firm,  unbending  tissue,  full  of  little  crystallized  sharp  points. 
These  abound  in  most  of  the  common  sponges,  rendering  them  un- 
fit for  domestic  purposes. 

It  would  be  impossible  here  to  describe  sponges.  In  the  higher 
forms  of  animal  life,  the  individuals  of  one  species  have  all  re- 
semblances which  may  be  stated,  buj^  sponges,  even  of  the  same 
kind,  diflfer  from  each  other  in  figure  and  development  too  much 
to  admit  of  popular  description.  Most  wonderful  processes  take 
place  in  the  living  animal.  Dr.  Grant  once,  while  observing  one 
under  a  microscope  in  some  sea-water,  perceived  an  inward  motion 
in  the  opaque  particles  floating  through  the  water.  He  brought 
one  of  the  apertures  of  the  sponge  immediately  into  view,  and  thus 
describes  the  wonderful  spectacle  which  it  presented.  "  I  beheld,'' 
he  says,  "for  the  first  time,  this  living  fountain  gi\'ing  forth,  from 
a  circular  cavity,  an  impetuous  torrent  of  liquid  matter,  and  hurl- 
ing along,  in  rapid  succession,  opaque  masses  which  it  strewed 
everywhere  around.  The  beauty  and  novelty  of  such  a  scene  in 
the  animal  kdngdoni  long  arrested  my  attention,  but  after  twenty- 
five  minutes  of  constant  observation,  I  was  obliged  to  withdraw  my 
eye,  from  fatigue,  without  having  seen  the  torrent  for  one  instant 
change  its  direction,  or  diminish  in  the  slightest  degree  the  m- 
pidity  of  its  course."  The  engraving  represents  the  action  of  a 
living  sponge,  discharging  the  water  downwards  ;  and  many  nutu- 
ralists  have  since  beheld  a  sight  seldom  seen  by  the  unscientific  ob- 


270  THE   SNAIL  AND  HIS   SHELL. 

server.      When  the  animal  of   the  sponge   dies,  of   course  this 
action  ceases  entirely. 


THE  SNAIL  AND  HIS  SHELL. 

A    FABLE. 

ASl^AIL  had  long  lived  very  happy  by  the  sea-side,  in  his  shell, 
which,  if  it  was  not  very  large,  was  quite  large  enough  for  him. 
One  evening  as  he  was  rambling  about,  drawing  his  house  after  him, 
as  usual,  he  saw,  to  his  great  delight,  a  large  shell  lying  on  the  ground. 

He  had  never  seen  so  large  a  shell  before,  and  he  began  to  think 
what  a  fine  house  it  would  make.  It  was  not  a  thin  shell  like  his 
own,  but  a  large,  handsome,  strong  one,  and  the  entrance  to  it 
shone  like  pearl. 

The  snail  moved  round  it,  to  look  at  it  on  all  sides,  and  the  more 
he  saw  of  it  the  more  he  was  pleased.  At  last  he  took  courage  to 
peep  inside,  and  putting  out  his  long  feelers,  he  groped  his  way  from 
one  room  to  another  till  he  thought  he  should  never  reach  the  last. 

No  one  was  there  to  disp^ite  his  right  to  remain,  and,  without 
further  thought,  he  bade  good-bye  to  his  old,  little  shell,  and,  pleased 
with  thinking  what  a  fine  new  house  he  had  found,  and  how  his 
old  friends  would  envy  him,  he  crept  into  the  shell. 

Night  came  on.  The  wind  blew,  and  the  snail  began  to  feel  that 
his  fine  house  was  not  quite  so  comfortable  as  he  had  expected. 
In  the  one  he  had  left  it  was  so  small  that  he  could  with  ease  keep 
out  the  cold,  but  in  the  present  one  the  wind  howled  through  every 
chamber,  and  almost  froze  him  to  death. 

While  he  was  shivering  from  the  cold,  he  heard  a  strange  noise, 
which  grew  louder  and  louder.  It  was  the  tide,  which  was  fast 
rising,  and  he  tried  with  all  his  strength  to  move  his  new  house 
away  from  the  danger.     He  tugged  and  panted,  but  all  in  vain. 

The  tide  was  just  upon  him,  and  he  had  barely  time  to  grope  his  way 
back  to  the  old  shell  he  had  despised,  and  hurry  oflf  to  a  more 
secure  spot. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  as  he  trudged  off  with  his  old  shell  on  his  back, 
"  it  is  better  to  be  content  with  a  little,  than  to  aim  at  great  things 
quite  out  of  our  sphere." 


ANCIENT   SANDALS 


27: 


ANCIENT  SANDALS. 

SANDALS,  in  the  olden  time,  were  worn  very  generally  instead 
of  shoes.  The  Egyptians,  Hebrews,  Greeks,  and  Romans  wore 
them.  The  sandal  was  sometimes  made  of  leather  entirely,  and 
sometimes  of  leather  and  cork.  It  left  the  foot  bare  on  the  top, 
and  afforded  no  protection  against  the  dust.  Sandals  were  not  in- 
tended to  be  used  in  the  house.  Those  who  had  been  walking  in 
the  street,  when  they  entered  a  dwelling,  left  them  at  the  door. 
The  feet,  as  you  may  suppose,  almost  invariably  needed  washing, 
when  the  sandal  was  taken  off;  and  this  circumstance  will  throw 
light  on  the  frequent  allusions  to  the  washing  of  the  feet  which  are 
found  in  the  Bible.  It  was  deemed  but  a  common  mark  of  re- 
spect among  the  Hebrews  to  furnish  their  guests  with  the  means 
of  washing  their  feet,  as  soon  as  they  entered.  Servants  frequently 
performed  this  act  for  the  family  and  their  guests ;  and  it  was  to 
impress  upon  his  disciples  the  duty  of  humility  and  solf-sacrifice 
among  themselves,  that  our  Saviour  condescended  to  wash  their 
feet. 

Sandals  are  still  worn,  to  some  extent,  among  several  Eastern 
nations.  I  have  often  seen  the  Capuchin  monks  in  Italy  woaring 
them.  These  relics  of  a  half-civilized  state,  seem  to  suit  the  filthy 
habits  of  this  fraternity  exactly.  Their  idea  of  grace  seems  to  bo 
that  it  is  something  which  will  spoil  without  a  thick  coating  of 
dirt. 


272  THE  WITTY  DOMIlSriCAN. 

Sandals  are  worn  in  India,  too.  At  the  doors  of  Hindoo  pago- 
das, I  have  been  told,  sandals  are  collected  in  immense  numbers, 
the  worshipers  invariably  leaving  them  at  the  outer  door.  The 
Turks  also  wear  them,  and  take  them  off  at  the  door  of  their 
mosques. 

♦^ 

THE  WITTY  DOMINICAN. 

BY  far  the  most  intelligent  and  companionable  of  all  the  differ- 
ent orders  of  monks  one  meets  in  the  south  of  Europe,  are 
the  Dominicans.  They  are  now  somewhat  and  have  been  still 
more  celebrated  for  their  preaching  talents.  In  this  respect,  they 
are  far  superior,  even,  to  the  Jesuits,  being  generally  trained  from 
their  childhood  with  especial  reference  to  the  service  of  the  pul- 
pit. The  Neapolitans  tell  a  great  many  stories  about  the  wit  of  a 
certain  Father  Rocco,  belonging  to  this  order,  who  for  many  years 
officiated  in  Naples.  On  one  occasion,  it  is  related,  he  preached 
on  the  mole  a  penitential  sermon,  and  introduced  so  many  illus- 
trations of  terror,  that  he  soon  brought  his  hearers  to  their  knees. 
While  they  were  thus  showing  every  sign  of  contrition,  he  cried 
out,  "  Now  all  of  you  who  sincerely  repent  of  your  sins,  hold  up 
your  hands !"  Every  man  in  the  vast  multitude  immediately 
stretched  out  both  his  hands.  "  Holy  Archangel  Michael,"  ex- 
claimed Rocco,  "  thou  who  with  thy  adamantine  sword  standest  at 
the  right  of  the  judgment  seat  of  God,  hew  me  off  every  hand 
which  has  been  raised  hypocritically."  In  an  instant  every  hand 
dropped,  and  Rocco,  of  course,  poured  forth  a  fresh  torrent  of  elo- 
quent invective  against  their  sins  and  deceit. 

He  had  a  great  dislike  to  tobacco,  and  when  once  preaching  to  a 
crowd  of  Spanish  sailors,  he  astounded  them  by  telling  them  that 
there  were  no  Spanish  saints  in  heaven.  A  few,  he  said,  had  been 
admitted,  but  they  smoked  so  many  cigars  that  they  made  the 
Holy  Virgin  sick,  and  St.  Peter  set  his  wits  to  work  to  get  them 
out  At  length  he  proclaimed  that  a  bull-fight  was  to  be  held 
outside  the  gate  of  Paradise.  Thereupon  every  Spanish  saint, 
without  exception,  ran  off  to  see  the  fight,  and  St.  Peter  immediately 
closed  the  gate,  and  took  care  never  to  admit  another  Spaniard. 


VOL.  V. 


A  STRING  OF  PUNS.  273 


A  STKING  OF  PUN'S. 

We  know  the  meaning  of  most  words 

By  sound  as  well  as  sight; 
They  mean,  although  they  have  no  mien^ 

So  mind  and  write  them  right. 

For  thus  in  "  eccentricity," 

One  sees  good  many  c'«, 
Also,  in  "  hubbubbubberous," 

The  Vs  are  thick  as  lees. 

There  are  no  i's  in  English  "  eyes,'^ 

But  e's  there  are  in  "ease," 
A  does  not  want  ye  to  make  it  "  aye," 

There's  but  one  jp  in  peas. 

Some  judges  judge  the  English  tongue, 

But  kill  it  with  a  breath  ; 
With  wind  and  words  they  sentence  aome 

Fine  sentences  to  death. 

A  sea-horse  is  a  sea-horse,  when 

You  see  him  in  the  sea; 
But  when  you  sec  him  in  the  hay, 

A  hay  horse  then  is  he. 

Of  course  a  race  course  isn't  coarse; 

A  jlne  is  far  from  jine ; 
It  is  a  saddening  sight  to  see 

A  noble  fine  tree  pine. 

If  miners  are  all  minors,  then 

Their  guardians  get  their  gains; 
All  glaziers  extra  yains  should  take 

To  put  in  extra  jpanes. 

A  kitchen  maid  is  often  made 

To  burn  her  face,  and  broil  it; 
A  lady  knows  no  labor,  but 

To  toil  it  at  her  toilet ! 

12*  « 


274 


FOSSIL  SHELLS. 


FOSSIL  SHELLS. 


HALK  is  entirely  a  marine  deposit.  That  white  sub- 
stance is  composed  of  lime  and  carbonic  acid,  and 
may  have  been  precipitated  from  water  holding  lime 
in  solution,  from  which  an  excess  of  carbonic  acid 
was  expelled.  But  a  large  proportion  of  our  purest  chalk  is 
chiofly,  if  not  wholly,  composed  of  the  remains  of  corals, 
zoophytes,  shells,  star-fishes,  and  other  animal  substances ;  and 
in  some  portions  of  chalk,  relics  of  sea-weeds  appear  in  great 
abundance.  We  can  at  any  time  find  remains  of  large  shells  in 
the  chalk  ;  but  never  till  the  microscope  was  brought  to  bear  upon 
the  crushed  or  perfect  shells  which  form  the  grains  of  this  material, 
could  we  imagine  how  many  myriads  of  these  lay  hidden  to  the 
human  eye.  Ehrenberg  ascertained  the  wonderful  fact,  that  a  cu- 
bic inch  of  chalk  may  contain  upwards  of  a  million  of  the  fossil 
remains  of  perfect  shells  and  corals.  Little  does  the  thoughtless 
wanderer  on  the  shore  think  to  what  small  animals  he  is  indebted 
for  the  portion  of  earth  on  which  he  is  walking.  That  chalk  too 
will,  if  burned,  make  as  good  lime  as  the  hardest  marble.  Many 
buildings  have  been  made  of  chalk.  Thus  the  abbey  of  Hurley,  in 
Berkshire,  England,  and  its  parish  church,  anciently  a  chapel,  are 
said  to  be  made  of  chalk,  and  the  remains  of  these  are  as  fresh 
and  unimpaired  as  if  the  builders  had  been  men  of  the  last  century. 
Many  other  deposits  besides  the  chalk  consist  largely  of  marine  re- 
mains, and  sometimes  stand  far  away  from  the  present  boundaries 
of  the  ocean,  containing  still  traditions  of  the  sea.  But  the  ex- 
tensive and  magnificent  range  of  chalk  cliff's  along  the  southern  coasts 
of  England  are  among  the  most  remarkable  to  be  found  in  the  world. 
Among  those  patriarchal  cliffs  some  of  the  commonest  fossils 
may  be  found  at  any  time,  but  we  may  chance  too  to  find  some 
of  the  rarest ;  for  however  carefully  any  portions  of  cliffs  may  be 


FOSSIL  SHELLS. 


275 


examined,  the  frequent  fracture,  and  constant  wearing  of  tlie  sur- 
face, leave  fresh  parts  yet  unstudied.  The  shells  contained  in  the 
chalk  are  often  similar  to  those  which  are  now  washed  up  by  the 
waves,  and  are  at  once  recognized  as  resembling  familiar  things ; 
but  they  are  found  to  be  different  species  from  those  now  in  our 
seas.  Oysters,  scallops,  and  various  other  common  genera  abound 
there ;  while  there  are  also  many  which,  even  at  a  glance,  we 
know  to  be  different  from  the  shells  of  the  present  times.  The 
shells  found  in  the  chalk  are  chiefly  two-valved  species.  But 
perhaps  the  shells  most  easily  described  to  a  reader  unacquaint- 
ed with  these  objects,  are  those  of  the  nautilus  and  ammon- 
ite. The  ammonite  is  altogether  ex- 
tinct in  our  seas,  yet  it  must  once  have 
abounded  there,  for  in  some  limestone 
districts  the  marble  is  almost  wholly  com- 
posed of  its  shells.  The  ammonite  ( Cornu 
Ammonis)  was  so  named  from  its  fan- 
cied resemblance  to  the  horn  of  Jupiter 
Ammon,  and  it  varies  in  size  from  a 
most  minute  shell  to  one  of  twelve,  or 
even  fourteen  feet  m  circumference.  This 
coiled  shell  is  well  known  in  geological 
collections  by  the  name  of  snake-stone. 
There  is  an  old  Popish  story,  which  has  section  of  ax  ammontte. 
come  down  to  us  through  a  great  many  priestly  hands,  but  whicn 
you  will  find  it  very  difficult  to  believe,  which  runs  thus  : 


"Of  a  thousand  snakes  eaca  one 
Was  turn'd  into  a  coil  of  stons 
When  holy  Hilda  pray'd." 


And  some  similar  traditions  yet  linger  among  the  ignorant,  where 
these  shells  abound.  The  species  of  the  nautilus  found  in  chalk 
\vill  be  easily  distinguished  froiw  other  shells,  because  although  the 
exact  forms  are  extinct,  yet  the  nautilus  still  spreads  its  gau/,y  sail 
to  the  zephyrs  of  tropical  seas,  and  its  clear  and  beautifully  foriiicl 
shell  is  so  commonly  used  as  an  ornament,  that  we  are  all  familiar 
with  it.     The  nautilus  and  similar  shells  are  among  the  earli.-st 


276  THE   LARGEST  FLOWER. 

traces  of  the  animal  kingdom,  and  must  once  have  been  very  nu- 
merous. Mrs.  Ho  wilt's  lines  to  this  fossil  shell  are  very  appro- 
priate : 

♦'Thou  didst  laugh,  at  sun  and  "breeze, 
In  the  new-created  seas  ; 
Thou  wast  -with  the  reptile  hroods 
In  the  old  sea  solitudes  ; 
Sailing  in  the  new-made  light 
With  the  curl'd-up  ammonite. 
Thou  survivd'st  the   awful  shock 
Which  turn'd  the  ocean-hed  to  rock, 
And  changed  the  myriad  living  8warm.3 
To  the  marhle's  veined  forms." 


THE  LARGEST  FLOWER 

IT  is  said  that  the  largest  and  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  pro- 
duction of  the  floral  kingdom,  is  the  flower  called  Rafflesia 
Arnoldii — discovered  in  Sumatra  by  Sir  Stamford  Raffles  and  his 
friend,  Dr.  Arnold.  This  plant  possesses  neither  stem  nor  leaves, 
but  is  mere  flower,  which  grows  parasitically  from  the  stem  of  a 
species  of  vine.  Its  roots,  which  penetrate  the  vine,  are  very  mi- 
nute. The  first  appearance  of  this  flower  is  that  of  a  small  knob, 
or  tubercle,  on  the  bark  of  the  vine.  This  knob  gradually  increases 
until  it  attains  the  size  of  a  large  cabbage,  at  length  bursts  forth 
into  a  gigantic  flower.  It  is  said  that  the  diameter  of  the  flower 
is  three  and  a  half  feet,  its  weight  fifteen  pounds,  and  the  hollow 
of  its  centre  of  the  capacity  of  fifteen  pints.  The  petals  are  an 
inch  and  a  half  thick  near  the  base.  The  color  is  a  brick  red, 
inclining  to  orange,  marked  occasionally  with  blotches  of  white  and 
of  a  deeper  red.  The  plant  is  diaecious — the  stamens  forming  a 
bearded  circle  around  a  large,  flesh  excrescence  in  the  centre,  whiqh 
is  beset  with  thorny  projections,  shaped  like  cows'  horns.  The 
flower  is  endowed  with  a  powerful,  although  disagreeable  odor. 
Its  period  of  existence  is  brief. 


EDITORIAL  TABLE   TALK. 


281 


■|H   I    ,i,|'||„h   ijftril   .ill  niiiillill',    lllii.' 


EDITOEIAL  TABLE   TALK. 

Savannah,  Ga.  May  3,  1854. 

PRESUMING  that  among  my  numerous  readers,  I  have  none  wiio 
are  troubled  with  short  memories,  I  think  I  may  take  it  for 
granted  that  you  all  recollect  the  place  where  our  last  table  was 
spread.  '*  In  the  old  town  of  St.  Augustine,"  says  one.  That's 
correct.  The  position  of  the  table  has  changed  a  little,  as  you  see, 
and  we  will  now  sit  down  at  Savannah.  About  St.  Augustine,  and 
other  places  in  Florida,  I  have  told  you  something  in  the  present 
number  of  the  Cabinet^  so  that,  just  now,  perhaps  wo  will  chat 
about  something  else. 

Shall  I  tell  you  how  I  amused  a  group  of  children,  the  other 
day,  here  in   Georgia  ?     There   wero  four  of   these  children,   as 


282  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

bright  as  our  Northern  boys  and  girls,  and  quite  as  fond  of  hear- 
ing stories.  And  by  the  way,  I  have  found  these  little  folks,  wher- 
ever I  have  been,  in  America  and  Europe,  pretty  .wide  awake  when 
a  story  was  to  be  told.  "  Come  here,  Fanny,"  said  I ;  "  would  you 
like  to  hear  about  some  little  birds,  that  got  caught  in  a  snow 
storm  ?"  Fanny  said,  nothmg  could  please  her  better.  So  she 
came  and  seated  herself  in  my  lap,  and  the  other  children  stood 
around  my  chair,  while  I  told  them  about  the  birds.  Suppose,  my 
young  friend,  I  tell  you  the  story,  as  I  told  it  to  the  Southern  children  ? 

I  had  a  letter  from  home  the  other  day — from  ray  own  dear 
home  on  the  banks  of  the  lovely  Hudson  river.  The  letter  was 
written  partly  by  my  brother  and  partly  by  my'sister.  You  do 
not  need  to  be  told,  that,  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  it  is  much 
warmer  in  Georgia  than  it  is  in  New  York.  Well,  this  letter  de- 
scribed a  scene  that  took  place  at  "  Woodside,"  our  country  home, 
on  the  15th  day  of  April.  I  had  senl^home  from  Savannah  some 
green  peas,  strawberries,  and  a  great  variety  of  roses  and  other 
flowers ;  and  while  I,  here  in  Savannah,  with  my  summer  clothing 
on,  was  sitting  at  my  open  window,  endeavoring  to  catch  every 
breath  of  air  that  passed  that  way,  my  friends  at  home  were  dis- 
cussing these  green  peas  and  strawberries  in  a  room  heated  by  a 
stove,  while  the  snow  lay  on  the  ground  to  a  depth  of  more  than  a 
foot. 

"  But  what  has  that  to  do  with  the  birds  ?"  So  asked  my 
Southern  friends,  and  so,  perhaps,  you  ask. 

Well,  you'll  see  in  a  moment.  You  know  that  many  of  the  dear 
little  birds,  which  gladden  us  with  their  music  in  the  summer,  leave 
us  in  the  autumn,  and  seek  a  milder  climate,  where  they  pass  the 
winter.  The  next  spring,  as  the  weather  grows  warm  at  the  South, 
they  begin  to  think  of  emigrating  again  to  our  part  of  the  coun- 
try. Many  of  them  are  with  us  as  early  as  the  middle  of  April. 
It  seems,  that,  this  season,  numerous  blue  birds,  robins,  wrens,  and 
sparrows  had  made  their  appearance  at  "  Woodside,"  even  earlier 
than  the  middle  of  the  month.  The  weather,  at  first,  was  tolerably 
mild,  and  they  sang  and  flitted  merrily  about  from  tree  to  tree, 
dehberating,  no  doubt,  where  they  would  build  their  nests. 

But  suddenly  this  severe  snow  storm  came  on,  and  the  whole 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  283 

scene  was  changed.  The  songs  of  the  poor  birds  ceased.  They 
thought  no  more  about  their  nests.  Each  one  had  as  much  as  he 
could  do  to  keep  from  freezing.  They  were  in  danger,  too,  of 
starvation,  as  the  ground  was  entirely  covered,  and  they  knew  not 
where  to  seek  for  food.  In  this  sad  plight,  they  flew  wildly  about 
the  house,  as  if  they  were  distracted. 

"  Poor  things  !  and  what  did  become  of  them  ?" 
I  am  coming  to  that  part  of  the  story,  and  shall  reach  it  very 
soon,  if  you'll  be  patient.  Just  as  soon  as  there  were  paths  opened 
to  the  barn  and  wash-house,  these  little  birds,  whole  flocks  of  them, 
invited  by  the  sight  of  the  bare  ground,  alighted  in  these  paths, 
and  Maggy,  the  good,  kind-hearted  girl,  who  always  takes  so  much 
pains  to  feed  us,  this  time  took  equal  pains  to  feed  the  poor  birds. 
She  threw  out  crumbs  of  bread,  in  generous  quantities,  until  all  the 
birds  had  as  much  as  they  wanted  to  eat.  After  this,  little  Mary 
and  other  members  of  the  family  would  feed  them,  several  times  a 
day,  just  in  the  same  way  as  they  fed  the  chickens.  These  little 
fellows  became  singularly  tame.  One  of  them,  while  the  door  of 
the  house  stood  open,  flew  in,  and  amused  the  children  with  his 
bird  gambols,  for  a  day  or  two  ;  and  when  the  window  was  opened, 
and  he  was  invited  to  take  his  leave,  he  seemed  rather  unwilling  to 
quit  his  nice,  warm  retreat. 

The  doors  and  windows  of  the  barn  were  left  open  all  the  time, 
for  the  benefit  of  these  unfortunate  birds  ;  and  for  several  days, 
while  the  snow  lasted,  they  made  themselves  at  home  there.  It 
will  gratify  you  to  learn,  that,  though  they  must  have  suff'ered  a 
great  deal,  and  been  half  frightened  out  of  their  wits,  none  ot 
them,  so  far  as  I  have  heard,  died  in  consequence  of  the  severity 
of  the  storm.  I  have  no  doubt,  that,  by  this  time,  more  than  one 
robin  has  nearly  completed  her  nest  on  the  high  trees  in  our  glen, 
while  the  little,  busy,  twittering  wren  has  cosily  refitted  her  old 
abode  in  the  box  hanging  on  the  gable  of  the  barn,  half  covered 
over  with  the  grape  vine.  I  hope  so.  I  should  feel  sad,  if  I  were 
to  find,  on  my  return  home,  that  my  cherished  pets,  the  birds,  had 
taken  a  lease  of  some  other  place,  and  had  forgotten  their  old 
friends.  I  can't  aftbrd  to  part  with  such  tenants,  for  they  pay  very 
high  rents,  and  very  promptly  too. 


284  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

My  readers  will  expect  to  hear  something  about  ray  health.  It 
is  better,  much  better.  The  Lord  has  been  very  kind  to  me  ever 
since  I  left  home,  and  I  have  not  for  a  moment  wanted  the  sym- 
pathy and  care  of  warm-hearted  friends.  My  brief  sojourn  in  this 
sunny  clime  has  been  an  exceedingly  pleasant  one;  and  though  I 
have  necessarily  led  a  somewhat  indolent  life,  owing  to  the  state 
of  my  health,  I  trust  it  has  not  been  an  unprofitable  one.  If  I  con- 
tinue to  advance  in  health,  as  I  hope  I  may,  I  shall  probably  be  at 
my  post  again  before  this  number  of  the  Cabinet  reaches  you. 

HOME    AGAIN. 

I  am  again  at  my  post,  dear  friends,  two  weeks  having  elapsed 
since  the  above  was  written,  and  I  am  now  driving  my  pen  almost 
as  rapidly  as  ever.  I  left  the  city  of  Savannah,  in  the  steamer 
Augusta,  on  the  13th,  and  arrived  on  the  16th  of  May.  A  great 
many  letters,  mostly  relating,  in  some  way,  to  the  "  Puzzler's 
Drawer,"  were  piled  up  on  my  table  at  "  Woodside."  I  was  glad 
to  see  them  all,  though  it  will  take  a  few  weeks,  I  think,  to  get 
quite  through  this  budget. 

To  Mrs.  Newbould,  my  ingenious  and  unwearied  assistant,  is  due 
much  of  the  interest  and  raciness  which  this  and  the  preceding 
number  possesses.  Everybo'dy,  but  herself,  will  acknowledge  that 
we  are  all  deeply  in  her  debt. 

THE    invalid's    SALAD. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  I,  the  other  day,  to  an  invalid  who  was  seated 
next  me  at  dinner  on  board  a  steamer,  "  do  you  eat  this  salad  with 
impunity  ?"  "  By  no  means,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  I  eat  it  with  mus- 
tard and  vinegar." 

Uncle  Frank, — At  the  earnest  request  of  my  daughter  Fannie, 
who  takes  a  deep  interest  in  your  Cabinet^  I  send  you  a  budget  of 
anagrams.  And  as  their  history  may  suggest  a  new  source  of 
profit  and  pleasure  to  some  of  your  readers,  I  give  you  that  also. 
Some  time  ago  my  two  children  took  a  fancy  to  cut  out  the  capi- 
tal letters  from  all  the  waste  paper  that  fell  in  their  way.  These, 
when  pasted  upon  pasteboard  by  Aunt  H.  furnished  them  with 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  285 

quite  an  assortment  of  all  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  in  the  pro- 
portions necessary  for  word-making.  Having  exhausted  the  amuse- 
ment of  preparing  them,  the  children  set  their  wits  at  work  to  find 
pleasure  in  using  them.  They  soon  began  to  give  each  other  the 
commingled  letters  forming  words,  from  which  to  discover  the 
words.  In  this  game  the  whole  family  soon  became  much  inter- 
ested ;  for  we  are  all  childish  enough  to  join  with  our  children  in 
their  plays.  It  was  soon  found  to  be  very  convenient  to  use  the 
separate  letters  in  forming  anagrams,  and  we  have  wondered  to 
find  how  many  words  a  few  letters  will  make,  and  into  what  curious 
sentences  some  long  wordo  can  be  resolved.  A  few  of  the  best 
anagrams  thus  discovered  constitute  the  enclosed  budget.  We  think 
this  amusement  very  profitable  to  our  children,  in  increasing  their 
skill  in  spelling  and  their  knowledge  of  words.  We  know  it  to 
be  very  attractive,  for  it  has  been  the  regular  after-tea  entertain- 
ment for  a  long  time,  and  does  not  begin  to  grow  old  yet.  Per- 
haps some  of  your  little  readeis  who  are  apt  to  say  "  Pa,  what 
sIulU  I  do  ?"  "  Ma,  what  shall  I  play  ?"  may  find  in  this  letter  a 
hint  worth  acting  upon.  If  so,  no  one  will  be  better  pleased  than 
myself. 

BUDGET    OF    ANAGRAMS,  NO.    V. 
L    Lo!    I   EEIGN.  4.    I    RUN    TO    TiTUS    BaYS. 

2.  All  irt  hot,  sir.  6.  I  cannot  RmE  so. 

3.  No  stern  action.  6.  In  a  bay  or  port. 

7.  Ariel  got  a  burn.  uncle  john. 


ENIGMA    NO.    VII. 

I  am  composed  of  7  letters. 

My  1,  2,  4,  is  an  animal.  ^, 

My  4,  2,  1,  a  powerful  ruler. 

My  4,  2,  6,  1,  is  sought  for  its  value. 

My  7  6,  4,  means  settling  down. 

My  whole  was  a  Scotchman  of  renown.  william  d. 

puzzle. 
TakiB  five  from  five,  and  in  its  place  put  twice  five  hundred  and  fifty 
"What  musical  instrument  will  it  name  ?  katie. 


Katie  challenges  the  boys  and  girls  to  make  a  sentence  or  couplet, 


286  EDITOKIAL  TABLE  TALK. 

triplet  or  quatrain,  containing  every  letter  in  the  alphabet  but  e,  and 
which  shall  make  good  sense. 

SCRIPTURE    ANAGRAMS. 

1.  Paee  him.  2.  As  MULE.  3.  In  dale.  4.  Lupa. 

^  KATIE. 

BUDGET    OF    ANAGRAMS,    NO.    VI. 

1.  Dandy  ewes.  3.  Red  nuts  and  gin. 

2.  Fished  urn.  4.  Ran  to  except. 

5.  Mat  nod.  john  r. 


NAMES    OF    PLACES    IN    ILLINOIS,    ENIGMATICALLY    EXPRESSED. 

1.  A  tree,  and  a  tract  of  land. 

2.  One  of  the  points  of  the  compass,  and  a  preposition. 

3.  A  drink,  and  a  game  of  cards. 

4»  A  solitary  person,  and  a  portion  of  time. 

5.  A  rural  occupation,  and  a  weight.  j.  a.  davis. 


MORE    CUTTINGS    FOR  PLANTING. 

1.  If  a  miser  be  planted,  what  will  grow  ? 

2.  If  the  Bible  be  planted,  what  will  grow? 

3.  If  a  brave  dandy  be  planted,  what  will  grow  1  jennie. 


answer  to  budget  of  anagrams,  no.  iv. 

1.  Red  nag.  Garden. 

2.  He  gets  our  sins.  Righteousness. 

3.  The  war.  Wreath. 

4.  Go,  LOST  RAY.  Astrology. 

5.  Stray  moon.  Astronomy. 

6.  A  sun's  height.  Haughtiness. 

7.  Hot  drug.  Drought. 

8.  Care  pent  me  in.  Intemperance. 
Answered  by  Freddy  D.  Allen,  H.  D.  Foster,  L.  H.  W.,  Gertrude  E. 

and  Ella  S.  Cooke,  and  Helen  Norton. 


ANSWER    TO    jerry  S    PUZZLE. 

A  pilot  met  a  mendicant,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  go  to  sea.  He 
replied  that  he  would  rather  die  on  shore  encircled  by  the  arms  of  his 
kindred. 

Answered  by  Freddy  D.  Allen,  all  except  the  second  word,  which  he 
could  not  possibly  make  out.     You  have  done  very  well,  my  little  fel- 


EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK.  287 

low,  to  complete  the  solution,  with  this  exception.     The  puzzle  was  a 
hard  one — so  they  all  say  who  have  tried  it. 

ANSWER    TO    JOHN    R.'s    QUESTION. 

Enoch  lived  as  many  years  as  there  are  days  in  a  year. 

Answered  by  Freddy  D.  Allen,  Mary  W.  R.,  Henry  A.  Danker,  Jane 
O.  De  Forrest,  A.  J.  Wheeler,  B.  L.  H.  W.,  Gertrude  E.  and  Ella  S. 
Cooke,  Anna  M.  and  Cornelia  IM.  Parmele,  and  Bessie. 


answer  to  cuttings  for  planting. 

1.  Wall-flower.  2.  Love  lies  bleeding.  3.  Sun-dial. 

Answered  by  Henry  A.  Danker,  ^sop,  Mary  M'Cormick,  Freddv  D. 
Allen,  C.  A.  Stillwell,  Mary  W.  R.,  Lucy  S.  and  Horace  Abbot,  Jane 
O.  De  Forest,  B.  L.  Mudge,  L.  H.  "W.,  (one  incorrect)  Fannie  C.  Ford, 
and  Gertrude  E.  and  Ella  S.  Cooke. 


answer  to  enig^ia  no.  v. 
Necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention. 
Answers  were  sent  by  Mary  W.  R.,  "  Patapsco  Boy,"  A  J.  Wheeler, 
B.  L.  Mudge,  L.  H.  W.  and  Charles  Bennett. 


answers  to  names  of  places  in  maine,  enigmatically 
expressed. 

1.  Rumford.  3.  Orangefield.  5.  Frankfort. 

2.  Greenville.       4.  Anson.  6.  Marysville. 
Solved  by  Henry  A.  Danker,  Anna  Quackenbush,  Mary  ^I'Cormiek, 

Freddy  D.  Allen,  Mary  W.  R.,  "  Patapsco  Boy,"  Jane  O.  De  Forest, 
A.  J.  Wheeler,  A.  B.  Foster,  G.  H.  H.,  L.  Mudge,  L.  H.  W.,  Gertrude 
E.  and  Ella  S.  Cooke,  T.  M.  Carter,  Anna  M.  and  Cornelia  M.  Parmele, 
Helen  Norton,  and  "  Scotchy."   

answer    to    charade    no.    VI. 

Cabinet. 
Solved  by  Henry  A.  Danker,  Anna  Quackenbush,  "  /Esop,"  Freddy 
D.  Allen,  Mary  W.  R.,  A.  J.  Wheeler,  B.,  L.  H.  W.,  T.  M.  Carter, 
Anna  M.  and  Cornelia  M.  Parmele,  Helen  Norton,  and  "  Scotchy." 


ANSWER    TO    ENIGMA    NO.    VI. 

And  WHERE  does  your  LORrsHir  enter  ? 
Solved  by  Henry  A.   Danker,  /Esop,  '-PaUipsco  Boy,"  G.  H.   H. 
L.  Mudge,  L.  H.  W    and  Helen  Norton. 


288  EDITORIAL  TABLE  TALK. 


THE    HIGHLAND    NURSERIES. 

Those  of  our  friends  -who  are  in  want  of  trees  or  shrubbery  of  any  kind, 
can  hardly  do  better  than  to  purchase  of  Messrs.  A.  Saul  &  Co.  proprie- 
tors of  the  "  Highland  Nurseries,"  at  Newburgh,  in  this  State.  They 
keep  a  very  large  assortment  on  hand.  Indeed,  we  have  found  that  al- 
most everything  which  will  flourish  in  the  Northern  States  can  be  had 
at  their  establishment ;  and  we  have  found,  too,  that  everything  from 
them  always  comes  in  the  best  possible  order.  Oh,  what  a  splendid  va- 
riety of  roses  came  down  from  Newburgh,  the  other  day,  for  "  "Woodside." 
It  would  have  done  your  eyes  good  to  look  at  them.  And  then  the  ver- 
benas !  "  too  numerous  to  mention,"  as  the  dry  goods  merchant  phrases 
it  in  his  advertisements,  to  say  nothing  about  the  "  Fastoffs,"  the  "  Red 
Antwerps,"  and  1  know  not  what  besides.  "Well,  would  you  believe  it  ? 
every  one  of  these  plants  lived,  and  now  promises  to  do  well. 


TEMPERANCE    DINING    SALOON. 

Mr.  Savery,  who,  for  several  years,  has  kept  a  dining  saloon  in  our 
city,  and  has  given  very  general  satisfaction,  has  just  opened  a  mammoth 
establishment  on  Beekman  Street,  near  Nassau.  It  is  one  of  the  largest 
in  the  city,  and  bids  fair  to  be  one  of  the  most  popular.  One  element  in 
it  will  especially  commend  it  to  the  patronage  of  those  who  like  to  give 
a  wide  berth  to  all  kind*  of  intoxicating  liquors.  It  is  kept  strictly  on 
temperance  principles.  Mr.  Savery  is  now  able  to  accommodate  stran- 
gers visiting  the  city  with  all  the  accommodations  of  a  hotel  on  the 
European  plan.  His  premises  embrace  five  storeys,  and  he  has  a  large 
number  of  sleeping  apartments,  provided  with  neat  and  comfortable  beds. 
"We  can  cheerfully  recommend  his  house  to  our  friends  from  abroad,  as 
well  as  those  at  home. 

carpet    ESTABLISHMENT. 

Those  who  patronize  Hiram  Anderson,  whose  mammoth  store  is  at  99 
Bowery,  will  be  sure  to  get  a  good  article,  at  a  fair  price,  and  to  be 
handsomely  waited  on  into  the  bargain.  Every  variety  of  carpeting  and 
floor  cloths  can  be  found  at  his  establishment,  and  "  they  say"  that  his 
prices  are  somewhat  more  reasonable  than  those  of  his  Broadway  rivals. 
At  all  events,  he  boldly  challenges  a  comparison. 


THE    PLANTER  S    HOTEL, 


At  Augusta,  Ga.  is  one  of  the  very  best  houses  of  entertainment  in  the 
Southern  States.  It  is  kept  by  Mr.  Simpson,  a  gentleman  of  much  expe- 
rience as  an  innkeeper,  and  who  devotes  himself  industriously  and  ac- 
ceptably to  the  accommodation  of  his  guests. 


Jllglrabetiral  |nire^. 


PAGE 

Abbey  of  Fowre 116 

A  Dollar  for  Good  News 169 

Adventures  with  Ghosts 226 

Alphonso,  the  Runaway 15 

Ancient  Sandals 271 

Anecdote  of  "Wesley 258 

Anecdotes  about  Rats 27Y 

Antelope 218 

Arabian  Conquest  of  Persia. . .  121 

Atheist 183 

Arnold's  Escape 176 

Avezzana,  General 83 

A  Wonderful  Clock 248 

Bedouin's  Deceit 90 

Bell  Ringer,  a  Swiss 125 

Birds,  Ingenuity  of. 191 

Blessing  of  the  "Waters 73 

Book  Titles,  Curious 184 

Books  in  Old  Times 121 

California  Indians 89 

Canary  Bird's  Love 137 

Chameleon  and  his  Judges 65 

Clergyman  and  his  Horse 36 

Clerk  and  the  Grammarian.. . .   115 

Clock,  a  wonderful 248 

Cocoa  Tree 213  j 

Conquest  of  Persia 121  I 

Counsels  for  the  Young 264  ' 

Cow  Tree 187 

Cunning  Horse 133 

Curiosities  of  Sleep 178 

Curious  Book  Titles 184  , 


Date  Polm  Tree 265 

Deaf  and  Dumb  Boy 189 

Dean  Swift  and  his  Printer. . .  72 

Debt  and  Credit 74 

Deceit  of  the  Bedouin 90 

Discontented  Horse 163 

Discontented  "Weathercock 86 

Drolleries  of  Santa  Claus 7 

Escape  of  Arnold 176 

Excursion  through  Etruria. . . .  203 

Fable  of  the  Chameleon 65 

Fable     of     the     Discontented 

Horse 163 

Fable  of  the  Discontented  "Wea- 
thercock       86 

Fable  of  the  Herons 114 

Fable  of  tlie  Philosophical  Cow .   247 

Father's  Love 278 

Fearless  Boy 80 

Filial  Tenderness 281 

First  Impressions  of  Florida. . .   249 

First  Saw-Mill 84 

Floridii,  First  Impressions  of.. .   249 

Follies  of  Great  Men 188 

Forgive  and  Forget 162 

Fossil  Shells. 274 

Frogs  and  Frog  Mines 86 

Garibaldi,  Giuseppe I'Jfi 

Gazelle 218 

General  Avezzana 88 

Ghosts,  Adventures  with- 226 


IV 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Great  and  Small  Minds 225 

Grumble  Family 165 

Happiness,  Secret  of. 210 

Hen  Story ". 69 

Herons  and  the  Herrings 114 

Home  of  Shakspeare 14 

Hoodwinking  the  Pigeons 22 

Horse,  A  Cunning 133 

Hour  in  the  Reptile  Room 103 

Indians'  Bones 6*7 

Ingenuity  of  Birds 191 

Irving,  Washington 39 

Isaac  Newton 173 

Island  of  Malta 71 

Italian  Lakes 154 

"  It's  only  in  Fun" 63 

"  I  wait  for  Thee" 64 

Johnson,  Dr.  on  Liars 13 

Keen  Rebuke 190 

King-Hill 26 

Lakes  of  Italy 154 

Last  Musquito 77 

Ledger 32 

Limb,  Putting  out  a 202 

Little  Feet,  Sounds  of. 83 

Little  Mary's  Vision 267 

Little  Scotch  Wit 63 

Living  without  Design 220 

Loiterings  about  Verona 58 

Love  of  a  Canary  Bird 137 

Malta,  Island  of 71 

Musical  Owl 233 

Music  from  Shore 209 

Narrow  Escape 280 

Nature's  Words  to  her  Pupil. .  225 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac ". . .  172 

Novel  Animal 12 


PAGE 

Ocean,  Wonders  of  the 23 

Old  Abbey  of  Fowre 116 

Old  Man's  Welcome 210 

Ostrich  Family 180 

Owl,  A  Musical 233 

Palm  Tree,  The  Date 263 

Perseverance,  Scottish 221 

Pet  Rabbits 199 

Philosophical  Cow— A  Fable. .  247 

Pigeons,  Hoodwinking  of 22 

Pilgrimage  to  St.  Bernard's. . .  107 

Pleading  on  Both  Sides 67 

Pompey's  Pillar 151 

Pun,  Stammering  out  a 177 

Puns,  A  String  of 273 

Putting  out  a  Limb 202 

Rabbit^i,  The  Pet 199 

Ralph  Rattleliead 63 

Remarkable  Telescope 217 

Reptile  Room,  An  Hour  in. . . .  103 

Rich  Man  and  Beggar 41 

Robin  Waltz 42 

Runaway 75 

St.  Bernard's,  a  Pilgrimage  to..  107 

Sandals,  Ancient 271 

Santa  Claus,  Drolleries  of 7 

Scottish  Perseverance 221 

Secret  of  Happiness 210 

Shakspeare,  Home  of 14 

Shark  and  the  Turtle 132 

Shells,  Fossil 274 

Sir  Isaac  Newton 172 

Sleep,  Curiosities  of 178 

Snail  and  his  Shell 270 

Song  of  Winter 13 

Sounds  of  Little  Feet 33 

Sponge 268 

Stammering  out  a  Pun 177' 

String  of  Puns 273 

Swift  and  his  Printer 72 

Swiss  Bell  Ringer 125 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Telescope,  a  Remarkable 217 

The  Date  Palm  Tree 263 

The  Pet  Rabbits 199 

Thoughtful  Boy 27 

Turtle  and  the  Shark. 132 

Two  Flowers 263 

Two  Pictures 259 

Unprofitable  Customer 131 

Vegetable  Instinct 153 

Verona,  Loiterings  About 68 

Vision  of  Little  Mary 267 

Voice  of  Contentment 171 

Washington  in  his  Family 232 


PAGE 

Washington  Irving 39 

Water  BuflFalo 179 

Weathercock,  Discontented. . .  85 

Webster  on  his  Farm 28 

Welcome,  0!d  Man's 210 

Wellington  and  the  Maniac. . .  130 

Wesley,  Anecdote  of. 258 

What  are  Trees  made  of  ?.    . . .  279 

What  Young  Men  have  done. .  139 

Why  is  the  Sea  Salt  ? 87 

Winter,  Song  of. 13 

Wise  Maxims 164 

Wit,  Little  Scotch 63 

Witty  Dominican 272 

Wonderful  Clock 248 

Wonders  of  the  Ocean 23 


VI  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Illustratians  u^  (BwMMimMs. 

Portrait  of  Mrs.  IN'irvv^ouLD — Frontispiece.  p^ok 

Vignette  on  Title  Page 1 

Pictorial  Letter 7 

Old  Father  Christmas 9 

Monument  of  Shakspeare 19 

Scene  on  the  Sea  Shore 23 

The  Sea  Convolvulus 24 

The  Irish  Moss 24 

The  Sea  Lace 26 

Portrait  of  Webstkr  on  his  Farm 28 

The  Webster  Tomb 32 

Portrait  of  Washington  Irving 38 

"  It's  only  in  Fun" 54 

An  Expensive  Joke 56 

"  I  wait  for  Thee" 64 

The  Island  of  Malta 70 

Alphonso,  the  Runaway 75 

Portrait  of  General  Avezzana 82' 

A  Fairy  Scene 87 

The  Serpents  in  the  Zoological  Gardens 102 

The  Rattle  Snake 105 

The  Herons  and  the  Herrings 114 

A  Scene  in  Persia 121 

Portrait  of  Garabaldi 1 27 

The  Disconsolate  Canary  Bird 136 

Pompeys  Pillar 1 50 

The  Italian  Lakes 154 

The  Discontented  Horse. 163 

The  Happy  Meeting 1 69 

Portrait  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton ^,^*-r5=m=?r**^s-. 172 

The  Ostrich .^^  .\.?.^.A.R.Vrr?^ 180 

Thk  Pet  Rabbits jf..,..,  Pf  .T??.  vrv-cr^ 198 

The  Old  Man's  Welcome J .TJ.N.I"5^^B^If.f .  J 211 

The  Gazelle ^. ^_^Jt. 218 

Contemplation /ri.^Q_^X.A  L4 ^ O^^i^. 224 

PoKTRAiT  OF  Washington rTTTrT.  ..T^..- 232 

The  Cow  and  the  Mouse 246 

The  Alligator 251 

The  Mocking-Bird 253 

The  Mocking-Bird's  Nest 254 

Flower  of  the  Aloe 257 

Boy  at  Play 260 

Boy  at  Study 261 

Thk  Date-Palm  Tree 265 

Ancii.nt  Sandals 271 

Section  of  an  Ammonite ■> 278 

Unolk  Frank  and  his  Friends 281 


)m. 


